things left unsaid
yesterday, was the 9 month anniversary of mom's death. had she lived past april, she would have turned 53 this sunday. and so i find myself caught between 2 significant dates in time- and missing her terribly.
words cannot express, and i so desperately want to say something. but i'm not sure what it is, and i don't know how to start. there are some things too difficult to explain and too much to think about, so we just let them go by without even trying.
during the plane ride home in april, i was so numb. sometimes, when you have too much emotional traffic- it's impossible for anything to get through. nothing has the opportunity to resonate when it can't reach you. there i was in midair- between home and school, between before and after- unreachable. i put my computer under the seat in front of me and held a pen and journal in my lap. and eventhough i knew there were things i wanted to write, i couldn't. i was incapable. my whole life i have dearly loved to write, about everything and nothing. and for the first time i had something significant to write and i couldn't think what it was.
i knew there were things i wanted to say to her, and there was a sense of urgency about it. if i don't say it now, she'll never know, and that knowledge will die with her- lost forever.
i had a week with mom. and all the things i wanted to say- i couldn't. i had 23 years with her, and one week preparing myself to lose her, and the only thing i could say was "i love you". i said it over and over again. in the end it was the only thing that mattered. the only thing that i needed her to take with her, was knowing that i loved her, and that was enough.
i remember telling allison that i needed more time. it seemed so reasonable a request. why not just a little longer? just a little bit longer. because i wasn't ready yet. and allison said "there will never be enough, you'll always want more."
that last week, it was like being on a collision course. my life up to that point charging full speed into the great barrier of harsh reality, that would eventually divide life with mom and life without her. me then from me now. everything changes.
i remember pleading with God- if there was ever something in my life i could skip over, just one thing i didn't have to do, please God, don't let me bury my mother. that day was inevitable. mom had been sick on and off for 9 years- that's 9 years of dealing with cancer, 9 years trying not to dwell upon what you can't help but think about. i pictured her funeral, her death, maybe a million times- and it was nothing i imagined. people have since said to me- "at least you knew it was coming, you could prepare" and i understand their reasoning. my mother wasn't taken from me in a freak accident. she wasn't killed by a plane or car. i knew it was happening- but it still took me by surprise. you can't possibly be ready for something you think will never happen. i knew she was dying. i sat there with a hospice nurse explaining what would happen- the process of death. it seemed so unreal. she said we had to let her go. we had to tell her it was ok to die. and i told her it was ok to miss my graduation, 2 weeks before she had sat on the sofa in our family room and i had said "mom, it's really ok with me, if you don't feel up to coming to my graduation" and she said "julie, i wouldn't miss it for the world" and 2 weeks later, she's laying in a hospital bed where the sofa in the family room used to be, and i'm saying "mom it's ok for you to miss my graduation, because i know you wanted to be there, but i love you and it's ok." and she said "julie, i'm not going to make it" and i told her it was ok, that i'd be ok. so why was i still surprised when she wasn't there? it wasn't ok.
i still miss her. i'll always miss her. maybe missing her is the new constant. before, i thought she'd always be there. now, i know she never will be there again. i look ahead, it's all uncharted territory. i never pictured my life without mom in it. i don't know what to do now. i don't know where to go. i never got this far. the story isn't finished. i've reached a climax and there's nothing on the other side- where do we go from here? what do i do? i want advice...but the very person i would ask is the reason i need it so desperately. she's not here. she'll never be here again. i go through my day now and tell myself that. "she's not here. she's not here." i have to remember she's gone, because i hate when i forget. i'll be at work and say something mindlessly about her, only the looks on other people's faces remind me that i've slipped up. i used present tense, or i talked about my parents in the plural. i had parents once, i had two. there was a mom & a dad- there was a family. it doesn't work without her. it's not the same.
i want her to know how much i miss her, without making her sad. i want to tell people i'm falling apart- without them fearing for my mental stability. i want to say i'm not ok when people ask me- b/c that's the truth. "how are you?" "i'm not ok" it's honest- fine sounds shallow now. never despised 'hey, how are you?' until now, now when the only answer i have is the one that no one wants to hear. i know i will be ok. eventually, one day it will be ok. i'm just waiting- i'm waiting for that day. until then i wish they wouldn't ask me. b/c i keep feeding them the lie they want to hear. it's not ok to lose you mom. it's never ok. but it's good to feel this way- i'd rather feel this than nothing. i'd rather feel suffocated by emotion than devoid of it. i prefer this feeling to the one i felt on the plane going home...at least now i know how i feel. and that's the only thing i know anymore. that it hurts without her, and i'm lost without her. but the pain i feel assures me that i'm normal- that i loved my mother, that i always will. and that i miss her like anyone would. it hurts, and i love her. that's all that matters. it's enough. and it'll be ok.
words cannot express, and i so desperately want to say something. but i'm not sure what it is, and i don't know how to start. there are some things too difficult to explain and too much to think about, so we just let them go by without even trying.
during the plane ride home in april, i was so numb. sometimes, when you have too much emotional traffic- it's impossible for anything to get through. nothing has the opportunity to resonate when it can't reach you. there i was in midair- between home and school, between before and after- unreachable. i put my computer under the seat in front of me and held a pen and journal in my lap. and eventhough i knew there were things i wanted to write, i couldn't. i was incapable. my whole life i have dearly loved to write, about everything and nothing. and for the first time i had something significant to write and i couldn't think what it was.
i knew there were things i wanted to say to her, and there was a sense of urgency about it. if i don't say it now, she'll never know, and that knowledge will die with her- lost forever.
i had a week with mom. and all the things i wanted to say- i couldn't. i had 23 years with her, and one week preparing myself to lose her, and the only thing i could say was "i love you". i said it over and over again. in the end it was the only thing that mattered. the only thing that i needed her to take with her, was knowing that i loved her, and that was enough.
i remember telling allison that i needed more time. it seemed so reasonable a request. why not just a little longer? just a little bit longer. because i wasn't ready yet. and allison said "there will never be enough, you'll always want more."
that last week, it was like being on a collision course. my life up to that point charging full speed into the great barrier of harsh reality, that would eventually divide life with mom and life without her. me then from me now. everything changes.
i remember pleading with God- if there was ever something in my life i could skip over, just one thing i didn't have to do, please God, don't let me bury my mother. that day was inevitable. mom had been sick on and off for 9 years- that's 9 years of dealing with cancer, 9 years trying not to dwell upon what you can't help but think about. i pictured her funeral, her death, maybe a million times- and it was nothing i imagined. people have since said to me- "at least you knew it was coming, you could prepare" and i understand their reasoning. my mother wasn't taken from me in a freak accident. she wasn't killed by a plane or car. i knew it was happening- but it still took me by surprise. you can't possibly be ready for something you think will never happen. i knew she was dying. i sat there with a hospice nurse explaining what would happen- the process of death. it seemed so unreal. she said we had to let her go. we had to tell her it was ok to die. and i told her it was ok to miss my graduation, 2 weeks before she had sat on the sofa in our family room and i had said "mom, it's really ok with me, if you don't feel up to coming to my graduation" and she said "julie, i wouldn't miss it for the world" and 2 weeks later, she's laying in a hospital bed where the sofa in the family room used to be, and i'm saying "mom it's ok for you to miss my graduation, because i know you wanted to be there, but i love you and it's ok." and she said "julie, i'm not going to make it" and i told her it was ok, that i'd be ok. so why was i still surprised when she wasn't there? it wasn't ok.
i still miss her. i'll always miss her. maybe missing her is the new constant. before, i thought she'd always be there. now, i know she never will be there again. i look ahead, it's all uncharted territory. i never pictured my life without mom in it. i don't know what to do now. i don't know where to go. i never got this far. the story isn't finished. i've reached a climax and there's nothing on the other side- where do we go from here? what do i do? i want advice...but the very person i would ask is the reason i need it so desperately. she's not here. she'll never be here again. i go through my day now and tell myself that. "she's not here. she's not here." i have to remember she's gone, because i hate when i forget. i'll be at work and say something mindlessly about her, only the looks on other people's faces remind me that i've slipped up. i used present tense, or i talked about my parents in the plural. i had parents once, i had two. there was a mom & a dad- there was a family. it doesn't work without her. it's not the same.
i want her to know how much i miss her, without making her sad. i want to tell people i'm falling apart- without them fearing for my mental stability. i want to say i'm not ok when people ask me- b/c that's the truth. "how are you?" "i'm not ok" it's honest- fine sounds shallow now. never despised 'hey, how are you?' until now, now when the only answer i have is the one that no one wants to hear. i know i will be ok. eventually, one day it will be ok. i'm just waiting- i'm waiting for that day. until then i wish they wouldn't ask me. b/c i keep feeding them the lie they want to hear. it's not ok to lose you mom. it's never ok. but it's good to feel this way- i'd rather feel this than nothing. i'd rather feel suffocated by emotion than devoid of it. i prefer this feeling to the one i felt on the plane going home...at least now i know how i feel. and that's the only thing i know anymore. that it hurts without her, and i'm lost without her. but the pain i feel assures me that i'm normal- that i loved my mother, that i always will. and that i miss her like anyone would. it hurts, and i love her. that's all that matters. it's enough. and it'll be ok.
posted by julie at 2:44 PM
