02 June 2012

Five Years

I didn't want to get out of bed today. There are multiple reasons for this; I'm still not feeling 100% after having a death flu that turned into an ear infection. It is rainy and gray. I didn't want to go to work. Underlying all of this, however, is that it is the fifth anniversary of pretty much the worst day of my life.

Five years is a long time. The world has changed, there are lots of things that have no reference to my mother. I've cycled through a whole new wardrobe. I had to give away the suit I wore at her funeral because it was too big. She would be thrilled at how little of my wardrobe is still black. There's a whole crop of television addictions and fantasy boyfriends I never had a chance to tell her about. My life plans are radically altered. But there are some things that don't change. Hearing a James Taylor, Carole King, or Billy Joel song still makes me melancholy. I feel homesick when I see rose bushes. While it happens far less frequently now, I still reflexively think of calling her whenever really good or really bad things happen.

And that is the rub. All the things she hasn't been and won't be a part of is the hardest bit. The good things in life, the happy moments or great opportunities are always a little bittersweet because she isn't here to share them. The bad things, the sad moments, the unfortunate blind sides in life are all a little worse because she is no longer just a phone call away.

I remember shortly after my mother died, my aunt telling me "Welcome to the Dead Mom's Club. It sucks." And it does. That is really all there is to say about it when you lose your best friend and confidant. You make do, and you move forward. You try to refrain from wallowing, because she would be irate if she thought you missing life because of her. But it's never the same.

6 comments:

Kristen said...

Hugs.

WalkConkies said...

I don't think it will ever be easy to miss someone you love so much, but I am so grateful we have had such wonderful role models in our lives. Even through all the tears, I always feel lifted when I think of my Dad and know he is very close by and very aware of all that is going on in my life - perhaps more aware than he ever was. I hope you know she still laughs and cries with you and loves you very much!!!

Duludes said...

I echo everything Heidi says. As I don't have a specific day to gage the mental loss of my mom I do feel a lot of these same emotions and thoughts too. There has been a few times I have been gardening before and have thought about your wonderful mom and her beautiful flowers, oh how I wish she could come help me with my roses. I have about given up on them. If only I had Janet"s touch.

Katie said...

I love you. I love your mom. I miss her, too. Sending a hug your way.

Krystal Baker said...

I bet that is hard. I know I take my parents for granted too often, esp. my mom.

Linda said...

I know it will never be the same and I'm not looking forward to it for sure!! But, any lovin' you ever need, I hope you know where to come!! Since most of my girls are very far away, it seems I ALWAYS have so much extra to share!! Love you, girl!! xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo