It's been a rough As of last night, I finally went through every single picture from Mom's house, every photo album, every framed photograph and every stray one laying in the bottom of a box. Which, while it gave me a feeling of satisfaction (not that I'm 'done' with them, by any means, because I have quite a stack that I still need to figure out exactly what to do with) also left me feeling even more lost and alone.
I found Mom this morning, in my dreams, in the strangest place. She was in what I was calling a memory stick but was actually something more like the size and shape of I-Touch. Not a picture. Not even video. But actually Mom.
Walking around, smiling, talking with me but trapped inside the device. I realized it as a way to have her back, as the only way to have her back, so I was mostly okay with that and she certainly seemed happy enough in there. Still I remember telling her how much I wish I could actually hug her. Didn't seem to fizz her too much though. But then the alarm went off and I had to leave her behind.
Not too far behind though. It seems like she's been with me (or hovering nearby) most of the day. Not in a good way but in a sad way. And something tells me it's only going to get worse as we come closer and closer to that cursed date 11 days hence.
Ironically enough, the girls will be at bereavement retreat for teens that weekend. How strange is that? I think it will be good though. For them at least. And apparently the Kit Kat agrees. I was a little surprised by her comment the other day that she thought it would be a good place to be right then.
Although I must admit that I find myself wishing I had a similar place to go. I'm far from certain how, exactly, I am going to get through that weekend. And I realized today that my husband has similar feelings. It took me a while to realize (and I must confess, it's still very easy for me to forget) how much losing Mom was a personal loss for him, too. Not 'just' his mother-in-law but because both his parents died shortly after we were married and Mom lived with us or right next door for the past 16 years, I think, in a way, she became his mother, too.
Since we have to take the girls to the retreat which is a few hours away, we have decided to stay in Halifax for the weekend as opposed to spending most of it on the road. Which should be nice; we very rarely get away alone for a weekend. Somehow I don't much expect it to be though. Less something to be enjoyed; more something to be survived.
3 comments:
did you get my email about the 27th?
hockey has been difficult for my monkey man - because it's something he and Dad used to enjoy together - so that's part of why it's so important to me that I'm always there for his games.
We will connect.
Much love.
tam
Yeah, I have it saved to answer, I was just waiting until the time was closer. I was thinking how glad I am that I'm not a hockey mom though ... I would go crazy!
Poor Monkey Man. :(
It gets better Michelle, I promise. Though to be honest, even nearly 15 years after my father died there are times when I feel like the breath has been sucked out of me - I miss him so very much.
When he died someone told me that I'd never get over it, that I'd get used to it.
I found comfort in those words. We shouldn't "get over" the death of someone we love. We absorb it into the fabric of our lives.
As long as we remember them - they will stay with us. Even if only in our memories and the small things everyday that remind us they were here ... and still are.
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