The last few days I've felt like Ron Burgandy after his dog was punted off the bridge, as if I was in a glass case of emotion. The problem was I couldn't pinpoint why. Little things were working me up and I felt a little "la la." (La la is what I decided to call it when I was feeling crazy so I wasn't actually confessing that I felt like I was going crazy.) I could blame my hormones, but it wasn't the right timing... and usually that just results in me being irritable, not weepy. And then my lovely app, Timehop, clued me in. See, everyday Timehop shows me my social media posts for that day from a year ago, two years ago, three years ago, and sometimes as many as six years ago. It was while I was scrolling through that stroll down memory lane that I realized the significance of this week and what was making me so emotional.
Three years ago this week I saw my Mom for the very last time. My Pastors had graciously flown me up from Florida so that I could check on her. She had been in the hospital for weeks and the reports I was receiving were conflicting. The weekend was difficult enough, and then my Mother's husband tainted it by hitting on me. (That is a story for another day. It was on my other blog, but that blog is no more.) The one day I got to visit with her alone, I asked her to be strong for me. I asked her to get better for me. Years before I heard her recount a difficult situation she had gone through to a group of women that met for a Bible Study at our house. She told them that I had been the one thing that kept her going in that time, the one thing that gave her a will to live, that kept her from committing suicide. I hoped that if nothing else would give her the will to live, that once again I might. It was difficult to talk to her on the phone, so it was a little bit of time before I got to again. When I did she sounded like she was in good spirits. I told her I was coming home for Christmas, and she sounded excited to get to see me again. Unfortunately that would be the very last time I heard her voice.
I was warned that these emotions would suddenly sneak up on me as "anniversaries" approached. Today, as I apologized to Doug for any time I may have, or may in the next few months, overreact to anything, I described grief as an alarm clock that you didn't realize you set. Life seems to be going along fine until suddenly you're jolted by the blaring noise of the alarm going off. The thing is I don't remember it being this bad last year, maybe because I was consumed by other issues in my life. Even now I'm surprised as tears stream down my face. I miss her like crazy everyday, but I didn't realize it still hurt so bad. Maybe this year the feelings are more intense because I'm back home. I feel close to her, yet so far away.
One thing I never considered when I consented to have her cremated was the fact that I wouldn't have a place to go to "visit" her. I realize she's gone, and a grave would just be a stone with her name on it, but it would be a stone with her name on it. It would be a place where people were reminded that she lived. It would have had a "dash." But instead her ashes sit in the funeral home waiting for a mausoleum to be built for our family. When my uncle asked if I minded her being cremated I said, "That's fine. I just don't want her ashes." Now part of me wants to go get them. I have no idea what I would do with them, and really do find the thought of having them in my house creepy, but ... yeah...
Death is weird enough... one minute a person is here, the next they are gone. Grief is even weirder. It rears its ugly head when you aren't expecting it, or when you forget it has a key to your house.
If I snap or cry at random, please forgive me. I'm bound to come back
and apologize soon after. Unfortunately right now my emotions are a bit
raw. The next few months will be bittersweet. I love the holidays, but I will desperately miss my Mom. There will be memories and tears. I will make it through, and next year maybe it will all be a little easier.
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