Saturday, March 23, 2013

three months.

Mom died three months ago today. A blur of weeks passed. Hardly nothing, and yet three entire months. How could it be? As the days have floated on, my memories are fewer of how frail she was, laying in the stark hospice room, and more of her smile and spirited personality. She loved her music--especially the Eagles. She had a thing for 80s movies and the Dallas Cowboys. I inherited a lot from her, but especially my big brown eyes, my hearty laugh and my affinities for Super Nintendo and junk food.

I really miss her. My heart is still so overwhelmingly full of just sad. I miss everything that was, but more so, my thoughts are of everything that never was. I have a fantastic stepmom who has been a huge fixture in my life for most of my 27 years. And I love and appreciate her endlessly. And my relationship with my mom was far from perfect. But I'm still so deeply broken over the experiences that I will never share with my mom. The woman who makes up half of who I am. My mom and I will never giddily shop for wedding dresses together, or sit next to each other at my baby shower. We never really traveled together, nor will we sit on a cluttered living room floor, wrapping Christmas presents together, or cook a family meal, side-by-side. My memories of us together are sacred, but selfishly, in her absence now, I miss what never was.

After having lost a handful of incredibly dear people in my life, I've come to know that the day of death isn't at all the worst of it. The shock of the loss inevitably washes away, but the absence of that person's light is what leaves the most gnawing pain. The mere knowledge that, that person won't share any more laughs with you, or exchange another knowing glance over a story they told a thousand times. The knowing that you won't ever get to embrace them again and inhale their familiar scent and soak up their warmth. The knowing that sharing any piece of your future with them isn't a possibility anymore is hard enough, but it's worse knowing that some of the best parts of your past are forever over too. The finality of it all makes me feel more adult than I care to admit, or experience.

Seemingly unrelatedly, last fall, I was wanting a simple, thin, gold band to wear on my right hand. Something dainty and feminine, nothing too matrimonial or trendy. For whatever reason, it never happened, nothing I ever found was quite right, When my mom passed away, I was given a handful of her trinkets. Among them was a collection of the rings she wore everyday--and one of those, a simple, thin, gold band. I wear it every single day.

While I know the reel of memories with mom is over, my heart is comforted by the idea of wearing this everyday. It's the closest thing I have to having her, and that's good enough for me.


  1. It's so wonderful you have something of your mom's to look at every day.

    If you're into this sort of thing, Palmists see your ring finger as the "Apollo" finger, which represents love of beauty, creativity, expression of self, and relationship with others. I couldn't think of a more fitting place to wear her ring.

  2. Oh, friend. My heart aches just reading this. I can feel that emptiness where she was in your words. I'm sorry I haven't been saying it to you more, but I'm thinking of you SO often and praying for you.

    My mom and I were talking one day about how she thought she'd never be old enough to lose her mom. She was 72 when she passed away, but she said it still felt so sudden. And each time we talk about her, we still laugh and cry and rejoice in the person that she was. And I know that my mom hurts every single time a specific memory or loss comes to mind.

    One of the reasons we are here is to love and share our lives with people. And how amazing that you were there to be a witness to your mom's life and to continue to tell her story.

    I love that you have her ring to look at and remember her when you do. Big, big hugs, friend.

  3. I just love you, dear friend!!!! Think of you constantly and know I'm always here for you!!! XOXOXOXO

  4. Beautiful girl... your beautiful words just brought me to tears. I can't imagine the pain of losing such a special person so early in your life, but I do pray that each day there is less emptiness and more of the happy memories of your mom to fill your heart. And the ring is perfect. Such a lovely memory to care with you each day. xoxo

  5. Perfect ring, and perfect sentiments. Keep on keepin' on. Lots of us are thinking healing thoughts for you.


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