Today isn’t very different for me than any other day
because my mother is still not here. A date on the calendar doesn’t change that
fact, not even Mother’s Day. The reminder of her absence is only magnified
because everywhere I turn, images of people and their moms flood social media,
television, almost everywhere… people celebrating, just as they should do. Just
as I would do, if mine were still here.
My mom was sick for quite some time before she died
and although I knew the outcome of her recovering wasn’t favorable, it took a while
for me to accept this truth. It’s as if my heart simply couldn’t accept the reality
my brain had grown to understand. That my mom would in fact, die, leaving me
motherless. In the months preceding her death, I spent so much time talking to
her, taking care of her, never wanting to be anywhere else, even when I knew my
body and mind were so exhausted by the constant vigilance over her. I would
remind her how much I loved her even when she began to forget that I was her
daughter, her Jenny, her Junebug, as she always called me. I talked to her
every single day, sitting by her hospital bed, reminding her of who she was, of
who I was and all she meant to me. In those final days it brought me a little
peace knowing I had had time to say goodbye. And I think in her final act of
love for me, she chose to die when I wasn’t present as if she knew seeing her
take her last breath would indeed have been too much for me to bear.
I thought
about all the things she would miss, mainly Mattie’s milestones. His first day
of his senior year, prom, graduation, his first day of college, his wedding
day, the birth of his children and every other little or big thing in between
those days. All the things my mom would have otherwise been front and center
for. These things filled me with sadness because she should be there. She was
supposed to be there. That was the plan. But I soon realized my sadness was not
so much for Mattie because I knew he would be okay. After all, he still had me
and I was HIS mom. It was me that I was so sad for. It was me that my own heart
broke for. Because it was me that still needed her. It was me that still wanted
her. She was always the glue that kept me together, always the one who made me
feel okay. Each and every day I still want to call her, tell her about my day,
ask her advice, bitch about something, talk about anything and everything and
I’m heartbroken every time I realize I can’t. Her number is still in my phone
even though it has long since been disconnected. I still look at the screen
that is labeled “MOM” wondering who would answer if I dared to dial the
numbers. It wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t be her.
I know I am not the only one who has ever lost their
mother. There are amazing women in my very own circle that have lost their Moms.
We are a sisterhood of sorts, an army of women bonded by a loss that is unfathomable
by most. Their pain is not greater than mine nor is their pain less than mine.
It’s merely different. We are each grieving perhaps the greatest loss of our
lives and somehow we’ve managed to survive. Some days are better than others. But
one thing I am sure of, life is meant to be lived. It’s what my mother wanted
for me and what I’m sure what your mothers wanted for you. I know today will be
hard, especially if it’s the first Mother’s Day without her. So do what you
must today to get through it. Cry, grieve, take a hot bath, drink a nice glass
of Malbec or hang out with your girlfriends. Hug your children tight and
celebrate your love for them. Live in the moment. It’s what we should do every
day anyway. Whatever you decide to do today, be sure to breathe in and out
deeply and just get through it. Get up, get dressed and show up. Be brave and
go about your lives. Remember it’s just another day on the calendar. Your
mother is all around you today, just as she was yesterday. Just as she will be
tomorrow. She’s just not here physically but believe me when I say there is a
gaggle of women (I imagine all our moms hanging out together) up in heaven
looking down on us…telling us, inspiring us, believing in us, willing us to
move forward through the pain. Don’t focus on the day. Focus on the life. The
life she led. The life she wanted you to lead. Remember the stories, share the memories
and be sure to talk to her. She is still there. She is as much a part of you as
she ever was. Mother’s Day will never be the same again, I know. The pain will
never go away, no matter how much time passes but a mother’s love is unending,
even in death. This much I know to be true. So if nothing else, today,
celebrate you! Celebrate the wonderful, amazing person you are, the person your
mother raised.
Happy Mother’s Day. My you
all be filled with love and peace today and always.
Jenny
xoxo
