I haven’t written in over a year. Many bloggers would apologize for this, but I am not going to. The last year has really kicked the shit out of me and, if I am being honest, everything I wrote was pretty ominous or sad and didn’t need to see the light of day. They were words meant to be let go, written down in a notebook by hand and then thrown into the fireplace as a cleansing. It worked out pretty well, but that meant I had no energy left to write for this space, I am ok with that and hope you are as well.
Last July my mom got sick, really sick. It was the time where conversations shifted from “when she comes home” (from the hospital) to “if she comes home.” She did come home, for a little while, then she went back in, and then in February I received a phone call with the news I knew was coming but would never be ready to hear: she was gone. So much of the past year had been spent helplessly watching her health disintegrate, my soul disintegrated along with it. While I already felt empty, the finality of her passing took my breath away and felt like someone pushed me over a ledge.
For the first few months I shifted between devastation and rage at the unfairness of everything: the trips she never took, the birthdays she would miss, the grandkids she would never meet. I struggled to fulfill my self-imposed role of strong big sister and silently bargained with the universe to bring her back somehow. I found myself physically present with other people, but certainly not mentally. Grief is a constant dull ache that beats in the bottom of my heart, steals my sleep, and mercilessly brings me to tears in places like grocery store aisles, red lights, and coffee shops.
It has been 7 months now and I finally feel the fog is beginning to lift. With this clarity I find myself more connected than ever to my family and good friends while also evaluating the energy I put into other relationships. One topic brought up over and over at my mom’s funeral was her constant ability to forgive others. While I have always been an advocate for the power of forgiveness her death renewed my commitment to the act. This isn’t to say that I am a doormat, life is way too short to be in any kind of relationship with an emotional vampire. Forgive, wish them well, and move on with your life.
I have missed this space, these words, and the tiny piece of the internet we share together. Thanks for sticking around and reading, promise to write more. – M