My mother passed away 4 months ago. People try to comfort me by telling me she’s with me, but I don’t like that statement. The last thing my mom wanted was to watch as prejudice is normalized, unjust laws are passed, and climate change slowly destroys our world. That would not be heaven for her. I hope she’s somewhere experiencing joy knowing she’ll see me again soon enough. She doesn’t have to stalk me for me to know she loves me.
The last four months have gone quickly as I immersed myself in taking care of the details: planning her celebration of life service, organizing her financial affairs, dealing with the attorney to make sure i’s were dotted and t’s crossed. Now as my life begins to reassert itself, I’m learning to live with the sadness. It’s no longer a constant thought. Now it comes and goes. Something will happen or I’ll see something and wish I could share it with her. So many things are going right in my life after an incredible bumpy journey to get here and I’m sad she’s not with me to enjoy it. I hope she’s proud of me.
Losing my mom has made me acutely aware of the presence she held in my life. There’s a piece missing. There are times when I miss her so acutely, I’m driven to tears. The pain lets go for a bit only to come up again. Some people talk about how the pain comes with the experience of loving someone. That I hold onto. I miss her because I have reason to miss her. She shaped me and my life. Now I just need to live that life in a way that honors her.