Grief · Musings

6 Months Later

Time.

The one thing we never have enough of. The thing that flies by so quickly. The thing we don’t appreciate enough.

I stand and look around my life, and I don’t know how time has passed so fast. Somehow, my kids aren’t toddlers anymore; they’re halfway through high school. Somehow, it’s been ten years since I graduated with my bachelors.

Somehow, it’s been three years since I was diagnosed.

Somehow, it’s been two years since I had my first clean scan.

Somehow, it’s been six months since my mom passed away.

For the last few years, I have been grateful for time passing. It meant I was still living, breathing, thriving. Now, I am angry about the passing of time again. I am saddened by it. It means I’m further away from the last days I spent with my mom.

I am now suspended in this weird space where I am simultaneously grateful for my own survival and hurting over being motherless.

I still think from time to time how I need to call her about XYZ. Or how I wish I could tell her ABC. I have horrible nightmares sometimes about her last week on this earth, the hell that was ICU, living it over and over again in my sleep.

I try to think though about happier times when it gets too dark. I remember how we would spend a week every summer in Destin, Florida. Those trips were highlights of my childhood, entire days spent out on the white sand. Mom and I playing in the pool. It was like a second home to me growing up.

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I miss her so much. Even when she drove me nuts, I miss having the unconditional love of a mom.

At yoga last week, I started my session setting my intention of letting some grief go. I meditated on the pain that was still weighing on me from watching her decline so quickly. I felt myself tearing up in warrior pose. I felt a lightness pass through me.

Then, the second to last song played. It was an Enya song. One of my mom’s favorite songs. It was a song I’d played by her bedside in ICU.

My yoga instructor has never played Enya before in the other sessions I’ve been to.

So, OK Mom. I’m going to try to appreciate time more again.

I’ll get there. Someday.

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