i was anticipating that this would be difficult to get through - she once told me that on my birthdays, she thought of me all the day - i thought this was both sweet and over-much. but i got it when it was her birthday on january 3rd -i thought of her all day and it was like tip-toeing through a mine-field; one wrong step and BOOM i was back on the planet Grief.
yesterday was also the inauguration of barak obama. i don't know if that was a distraction, but thinking of my mom was actually a sweet sweet feeling - warmth through my veins. a feeling that she was "with" me and that it was going to be fine. that it would be just like this, predominantly so, in the future. i am still struck, like with a baseball bat, at how much i miss my mom - but it does, for the most part, seem more in my control.
do you see how measured and guarded i am about this hope? how i leave an out for when i need to weep? this time next year - this time last year - this is how i've been measuring out time. soon it will be this-time-last-year PLUS one day - 366 days - and then what? do these points of demarcation mean anything?
what i know is that at certain times i'll be sad for no reason i can readily identify; then i look at the calendar - on a cellular level, my body knows there's an anniversary headed my way and to batten down the hatches. as for memories of my mom, i don't ever want to forget these anniversaries. i cannot tell you the exact day or even what year i was divorced; january something. i was diagnosed with breast cancer spring 1994, but whether this was april or may, i'm not sure. but the DNA of my being knows the exact moment my mom died. i had her hand in my hand when i felt her go away from us. and as painful as that might be, it would be more painful if i were to ever forget.
peace and love
christine
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peace to you, Christine!
ReplyDeletejust read your touching blog and this came to me immediately. You could be channeling Whitman! I love you.
ReplyDeleteWhat though the radiance
which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass,
of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.