Living With IT

Living with Grief is such a strange thing. Sometimes it's not a big deal. Something I rarely notice, like the mole under my arm. I know it's there, but I don't see it often or take notice of it. Other times, I see it and I think it's HUGE! Yesterday Grief wanted some attention. Grief had a hold of me and wouldn't let me go.

Some days I know my mom is dead and I'm OK with it. It's just a part of me and my life. It isn't necessarily a sad thing, it's just my reality. Other times, it's a face full of ice cold water. Yesterday wasn't a face full of ice cold water. It was more of a "covered in fog" feeling. I knew what the trigger was, *damn you Best Buy and your fancy "tag lines"* and I was aware of the feeling of sadness that filled my whole being. I allowed myself to cry and sob and feel the pain. I can't say it was easier then before, but I did it. I also reached out. That is always so weird. What do you say when your spouse or friend says to you "I'm feeling the need to burn down Best Buy because not everyone has a mother who isn't dead"? There just isn't an answer for that type of statement. My husband was great, as always about it. He knew better then to hug or touch me because then I'd break down and he knows I HATE that. He told me he was sorry and that he was there. He did ask me a few times during the evening if I was OK or needed anything. Because really, what else can he do? My friends were great, as well. We made plans to burn down the "motha fucka" or to go get massages on a beach by a cabana boy who speaks no English all with fruity drinks in hand. It's was nice to get the help that I needed. The comments helps so much, too! So much that I can't even begin to express my gratitude. Yesterday was a rough day, made a little less rough by people who I know care. I knew today was going to be better and I wasn't wrong.

Today was a lot better, but then I got that "cold water in the face" feeling. Nae and I were looking through her baby book and there was a picture of my mom in there. I had forgotten about that picture. I'd forgotten about all the things she did with me when I was pregnant with Nae and all the things she did for me and Nae after she was born. I was OK with it, at the time. I think I pushed it away, so I wouldn't "taint" a special day for Nae. *Today is her birthday* Then....I was doing something so mundane, like hanging up laundry or changing into my jammies and BAM it hit me in the face. MY MOM IS DEAD! I didn't freak out, I was just so shocked. It's still hard to believe sometimes. I know I'm not articulating this well at all, but it doesn't seem real sometimes. It doesn't feel like a dream per se, but it isn't real. It isn't my life. In my life, my mom is still alive.

In my life, my mom and dad would still be living in Vancouver or with us and would be walking on her own. She'd be WELL on her way to a full recovery after her strokes. She would have held my hand when Zilla started school. She would have listened to me bitch about the dumb thing that Husband did that pissed me off. She would tell me that I'm being hormonal and calm me down only the way my mother could. She would be telling my dad he needs to do this or that differently and he would sigh at her and then we would laugh. They would be sitting in their chairs or on the couch watching their favorite program or movie. She would be in shock that Nae had a boyfriend last month, but so excited when she dumped him because he "was dumb". This isn't my life, this isn't SUPPOSE to be my life.

It isn't fair that Zilla barley remembers her. It isn't fair that NONE of the grand children got to know her like Nae and Aga *cousin* did. It just isn't fair! Obviously life isn't fair and this is the way life is suppose to go, but not so soon. She didn't have to die when I was 30. She didn't have to die before she was even 70! That doesn't seem right, yet this is what happened and this is my life.

No matter how many hissy fits I throw or how many times I stomp my foot down, nothing will change. No matter how many times I get splashed in the face with a bucket full of ice cold water, my reality is still what it is: my mom is dead. It isn't the end of the world, but sometimes, it feels like it. Sometimes I can't say "it could be worse" or "thank God she went so quickly" because even I can't fake it THAT good. Yesterday and today were those kind of days. I just need to be sad for a bit. I just need to miss my mom. Sometimes it feels good to miss her because then I know she is real and there was a time in my life when I had her here with me. Because there was a time when my sentences didn't begin with "when my mom was a live...."