Mothers Day
Posted: Fri May 04, 2007 11:47 pm
I was expecting this but it's a little trickier than I expected. I keep getting sideswiped by Mothers Day advertisements. They're in my email, in my snail mail, in the stores, all over the place. Last Mothers Day I didn't know Mom would be gone from us less than a month later. I was still thinking she'd beat that one just like she did the others. Because that was what Mom did. Looked a problem in the eye and kicked its ass. She was always like that. I took that for granted. So I was looking at Mothers Day cards and instead of having to hunt for the perfect one like I usually did, I found a bunch that were all "the one." So I bought them all. I think there were ten. Each one said something that was perfect. I gave her her present and this pile of cards and she opened every one and read every one word for word. She was so small sitting there reading them; her hair was long gone by then and she would wear these cute little hats with cool pins on them. She just looked so damned small and fragile. But my mother was anything but fragile. I know that pile of cards is somewhere in her bedroom but I don't want to come across them because it'll just break my heart all over again to see them. I don't even have scar tissue there yet. I haven't changed anything in her room. Her clothes are still there, her hats. The other computer where she'd sit and play online poker all night. The computer desk gets me if I dare to look at it too long. I try not to look. When she started chemo, I got her this little purple bear. It's called a Chemo Bear and she wears a little turban as if she's going through chemo too. My mom loved that bear. It had its own special place on her desk. I had put a St. Peregrine rosary on the little bear and she's still wearing it. Some days I walk past the bear and tears just come forth out of nowhere. As they are now. And I get pissed at myself for being weak. I think "I am half of my mother therefore I should be half as strong as she was." Yeah right. Ok, some days I am. But other days I get rendered.
So anyway Mothers Day. This one's going to hurt. And every one to come is going to as well. I almost bought a Mothers Day card to set on her grave but then I thought what if it gets ratty and the caretaker throws it away? Going to her grave is a lot more than I ever think I can do. It wipes me out. When I'm away from it I feel like she's everywhere and yet...somewhere else. That she's on the wind and in the rain. She's in the moon I see every night. In the stars I watch. In the words I pray. In the heart that somehow still beats inside me. She's with me but she's not. But her essence is now in me and that's what I run on. But the grave...I have to go there and accept that the only ever tangible part of my mother is in the earth beneath my feet. "She's" really in there. The day we buried her I made them lower her into the ground in front of me. I guess it's more standard these days to leave the coffin above ground until the family leaves. But I told Mom I would see her through to the very end and it wasn't the end for me until she was in the earth. Being at her grave then didn't hurt near as much then as it does now. I don't know what that's about. I haven't had the chance to go there by myself so I just set down her flowers and tell her how much I miss her. And that I love her. Just like I know what I'm doing and like I've got it all under control, just like I promised her I would. Then I kiss her marker and I leave. I know if no one else was there I'd lie on top of her grave and pour out all the pain I couldn't possibly let anyone else know exists. I'm afraid of that. What if I went so far that I could never come back.
I wrote two checks today and didn't even notice the date. My mom's been dead for 11 months now. Sometimes I sit and say "My mom died. My mother is dead." It sounds so weird and surreal. I still prefer to say she's gone or left but somehow I know I have to say the other words to accept it.
June 4th is coming. I've been dreading it. I don't know what I'm going to do about it. I would much rather be surrounded by friends here celebrating my mom's life than to be sitting around at home thinking about her last day. Especially the time. When 5:15 comes around that evening I don't want to be alone. The time always gets me.
Recently I heard someone say how much they hate their mother and how they wished she was dead. I remember saying that when I was maybe 14 over some stupid argument we had. But I wanted to tear this person up for saying that, for being so mindless as to not realize that one day it's going to happen. And until it happens to you, you just don't know what it's like. You just don't know.
I miss my mom.
So anyway Mothers Day. This one's going to hurt. And every one to come is going to as well. I almost bought a Mothers Day card to set on her grave but then I thought what if it gets ratty and the caretaker throws it away? Going to her grave is a lot more than I ever think I can do. It wipes me out. When I'm away from it I feel like she's everywhere and yet...somewhere else. That she's on the wind and in the rain. She's in the moon I see every night. In the stars I watch. In the words I pray. In the heart that somehow still beats inside me. She's with me but she's not. But her essence is now in me and that's what I run on. But the grave...I have to go there and accept that the only ever tangible part of my mother is in the earth beneath my feet. "She's" really in there. The day we buried her I made them lower her into the ground in front of me. I guess it's more standard these days to leave the coffin above ground until the family leaves. But I told Mom I would see her through to the very end and it wasn't the end for me until she was in the earth. Being at her grave then didn't hurt near as much then as it does now. I don't know what that's about. I haven't had the chance to go there by myself so I just set down her flowers and tell her how much I miss her. And that I love her. Just like I know what I'm doing and like I've got it all under control, just like I promised her I would. Then I kiss her marker and I leave. I know if no one else was there I'd lie on top of her grave and pour out all the pain I couldn't possibly let anyone else know exists. I'm afraid of that. What if I went so far that I could never come back.
I wrote two checks today and didn't even notice the date. My mom's been dead for 11 months now. Sometimes I sit and say "My mom died. My mother is dead." It sounds so weird and surreal. I still prefer to say she's gone or left but somehow I know I have to say the other words to accept it.
June 4th is coming. I've been dreading it. I don't know what I'm going to do about it. I would much rather be surrounded by friends here celebrating my mom's life than to be sitting around at home thinking about her last day. Especially the time. When 5:15 comes around that evening I don't want to be alone. The time always gets me.
Recently I heard someone say how much they hate their mother and how they wished she was dead. I remember saying that when I was maybe 14 over some stupid argument we had. But I wanted to tear this person up for saying that, for being so mindless as to not realize that one day it's going to happen. And until it happens to you, you just don't know what it's like. You just don't know.
I miss my mom.