Monday, April 21, 2014


I wrote this post months ago.  I've come a long way since this post, but some of the emotion still rings true.  I saw this post sitting in my draft folder and want to release it.  I want to put it out into the universe knowing my healing began when I wrote these words down.  My healing always begins with words and pen and paper. I make space everyday for my craft, my writing.  I show up.  Nothing else matters.  It sure feels good to care about this again, to honor my truth and words.  Thank you for joining me.

~I look perfectly normal and somewhat recovered from such a tragedy.  I smile and laugh and my social life points to many friends and good times.  I dress up and wear makeup.  I work out.  From the outside I look just like you.  But some days I am dying inside and missing my mom and dad so much.  It still seems unreal. How can it be real?  How can this be my life?  I want to rip this god-forsaken wig off my head and throw it into the wind.

This is the second Fall season of my life that is occurring without my mom.  Without the house....without plane trips to Jersey and handing out candy at the door.  Without cards and $2 dollar bills sent to the kids. I'm just so damn sad.

I think of you all the time Mom.  When I ride in the car.  When I hear songs we heard together.  When I see my daughter's face and know how you would cherish her as she grows up.  I know you would say "Who is Grandma's girl?" and "You are growing up too fast, you are just getting too big!"

Some days I just feel so ugly and worn down.  Who is this woman behind this fake hair?  Who do I see when I look at photographs?  It isn't me.  It is some impostor.  A poser.  Fake hair and a fake smile.  I fluctuate between all out tears and raging anger.  Will it ever go away?

When Dad died it was devastating to all of us, but mostly you Mom.  But deep deep down I thought, I've still got you.  Everything will be okay if I have you. And years passed and hearts mended some.  But now you are gone and some days I cannot bear it.  I cannot bear the thought that you aren't HERE.  Living your life, driving you car, going out with friends....going to Walgreen's and getting a twist cone.  Stopping by
Grandma's house and going to church on Sunday.  Calling me and laughing and calling me again to say you forget to tell me this or that.

Some days I feel nothing.  Some days I wonder why I am not sad or crying.  I wonder in a passing moment if I'm over it all.  What is wrong with me that I'm not sad, not thinking of you?  And then everything and nothing trigger a floodgate of tears and sorrow.  The thought of "I need to tell mom this" just never goes away.

Where are you?  I'm more confused that ever before about God and the afterlife and church and faith and all that stuff.  I am still angry at God.  And I'm angry that the hair on my head is only on one side, patchy at best. I'm not normal internally or emotionally, but I can put on a good cover so it would appear so.  I hold tightly to the thread that continues to unravel.  I search for fresh baby hairs to crop up, to show me that this will soon be over.  That I can move on and look back at this time in my life and know I was strong and able to handle anything.  But right now I don't want to handle it anymore.  I'm so sick to death of rising above, putting on a smile and a brave face and moving forward.  I just need you to tell me "this too shall pass" and fill me with reassurance.

When I see your handwritten note on the desk it feels like you are still here.  I search for clues everywhere to tell me it's all a mistake.  I see a black Lexus and think its you.  I see a glance of a woman who looks like you or wears the same perfume as you and just one for second I forget.  I think about everyone else's broken, wounded, sorrow hearts.  What are they thinking?  What are they feeling?  We are all the same.

No comments:

Post a Comment