Let’s Talk About It!

It struck a chord within me as the anniversary of my mother’s passing was quickly approaching. I still have such a wide range of emotions when I think about her.

Yes, still. 

It’s been almost four years. Why, on some days (like today), can I still not seem to function the way normal people do? On some days, grief just seems to sit there in the back of my throat or like a storm gathered behind my eyes. Others can’t see it, but I feel it—this weight of carrying on.

I don’t share how I’m feeling almost as a rule now. I don’t want to talk about it. I simply function, and never have to burden the people around me with how I’m actually feeling after hearing a song that reminds me of her. For more than ten years of my life I’ve been writing, yet these last four years I haven’t been able to bring myself to write about her because writing about it makes it real and I don’t want it to be real …

I hardly ever let myself even think about how I wish I had called her more. How I wish I treated her out to lunch more. How I really hope she knew I love her more than anything.

These last four years, I have decided to not talk about it because I don’t think I could stand to find out.

But yes. Still.

Not long after she passed, I kept waiting to turn a corner. To arrive at some new place where I would shrug off everything that hurt, and never have to feel it or relive it all again. But this isn’t how we are hardwired. It isn’t how we are made. That’s not going to happen on this side of eternity.

We were made to never forget.

Sometimes, it hurts because it’s trapped, and what I really want and need to do is give her a call or stop over at her house.

But I can’t.

I let it rupture sometimes. When it overcomes me, it overcomes me, and there is nothing I can do about it. I just aim to not let it make me bitter. I try to call it for what it is, and understand that yes, it’s still going to happen.

I miss you everyday, mom!