Managing Grief After Mom's Passing
I wish I had some frilly story about rising above the fray and being super happy and going about my day-to-day as if nothing happened. This is farthest from the truth. What's really going on with me after Mom died is a plethora of emotions and changing routine habits that come out of nowhere.
Sometimes, I can't even explain what it is I'm feeling. I simply know that my heart and soul took a MAJOR hit, and I'm finding ways to restore my life the best I can. Mom would have wanted me to carry on, keep my nails and hands pretty, not let my hair grow too long, and quit running because she mentioned at one point that my uterus would fall out.
She had such a wonderful sense of humor. I hear her voice inside my head often, and I smile from ear to ear knowing she would be laughing at some of the things I do, while also being concerned about my values as an older woman. Mom knew best.
I miss her terribly. I now have a large photo of her on my desk, accompanied by the choicest crystals, feathers, plants, and sea glass--all the accoutrements that give her Grace, alongside helping me cope on any given day. I'm doing the best I can; there's no doubt. However, I'm not one to hide my emotions when it comes to those I love (or have loved).
It's all so surreal, not being able to pick up the phone and have a lengthy conversation with Mom about everything under the sun. Towards the end of her life, she wasn't able to use her phone anymore because she couldn't see the digits or make out how those crazy iPhones work. I ended up calling the assisted living facility and having them patch me through whenever she was awake and alert.
Those days were also waning. Her hearing was shot, as well as her eyesight. She would have NEVER, in a million years, wanted anyone to see her not all dolled up, wearing the right earrings, or with her perfect Dorothy Hamill-inspired haircut intact. When I traveled to Arizona for a final visit with her in late June, she was extremely thin and tiny, and her hair was matted to her scalp.
She actually didn't care about how she looked, which was my first indication that she was ready to pass. I still couldn't wrap my heart around a life without her. It was too much to bear at that moment, being at her facility and seeing her so frail.
All of us siblings have kept in touch more often than not since Mom's been gone, but I always cry whenever they send me a semi-recent photo of a Thanksgiving gathering where she was dressed to the nines and looking beautiful as ever. I hope to carry on her legacy in some form or fashion. Whether it be in maintaining a conservative outlook, dressing proudly and elegantly, or being kind to everyone I cross paths with.
Mom would have wanted it this way. She wasn't a shy woman at all. If she needed to say something, or to be heard about a subject, you can bet she would let you know. Her honesty and transparency were to be admired; that's for sure.
Right now, all I have are memories. Good ones. Silly ones. Challenging ones. Blessed ones.
Managing grief--as it were--is sort of a full-time job at the moment. Some days, I'm angry. Some days, I'm super sad. Some days, I randomly laugh out loud on a walk with Wizard, reflecting on some years when Mom and I were like sisters. Since I never had a real birth sister, hanging out with Mom became a thing for me. Not only would I learn more life lessons, but how she delivered her message left a lasting imprint on my soul.
I guess you could say that Mom and I are (and were) soulmates. The strong kind that never fades. A soft and genuine kind of soulmate. One whom we can talk to whenever we need to, even in death.
I have her rosary hanging by our bedside. Alongside every crystal that emanates love, survival, good sleep, and a heart filled with perseverance and strength. Since she embodied these traits, I want to keep the beautiful flow of Mom right near me.
I was in our local grocery store the other day, and my neighbor was in the checkout line after me. She said hello, and we exchanged pleasantries for a moment. She sent me a text later in the day to say that I looked sad. Hmm...I guess some feelings are written all over our faces. I probably was sad during that moment. Anytime I have a slight vision or recollection of Mom things, I do get sad.
She's with me. She'll always be with me. As much as I miss her dearly, I also have a wealth of her knowledge and spirit to carry me forth. Knowing Greg and Wizard are by my side, what more could a girl ask for?
Summer is waning, and the Central California coast is pumping with positivity. There's a vibe here that permeates all over this environment. I, for one, am going to soak in every second of gorgeous sunsets, living simply, gardening to my heart's content, meditating with purpose, and riding the waves of grief whenever they show up.
I wish every one of you a wonderful end of August, a significant time outdoors in nature, and a peace in your heart you've never had. We can all aspire to these things; it's just a matter of recognition and appreciation. Thank you.
I love you, Mom.
Your daughter,
Gerry Ellen xoxo
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