Dear God, My Mom Died ( A Prayer Not A Swear)

NOTE: Pictures are from June 2016, trying to lighten a heavy post, People.

When I see the quilt I made for Mom in 1997, my first quilt, that when I gifted it to her Mom said she'd take it to the home with her and indeed she did just that 19 years later,  the quilt she slept under for the last year and a half of her life while living at The Manor, Lord I just THINK of that quilt that now lays on the end of my bed and I feel a slap across my face...Dear God, my mom died.

When I'm sitting in Julie's darkened room at night, listening for her rhythmed breathing, I can feel the pressure of a thousand sand bags over my entire body...Dear God, my mom died.

Each morning as I drive to school, a time when I called Mom each day to connect with her, to hear her say "Lo!" as she answered the phone, to tell her stories to make her laugh, to let her know our daily antics from 3 hours away, my chest tightens as if I've been pierced with a knife...Dear God, my mom died.

If you have experienced the death of a parent, you may understand the feeling. For those who don't understand this crushing blow, this is how it feels for me. For 46 years I have walked this Earth and my mom has existed somewhere here too, walking this same Earth. No matter where I was, what I was doing, if I thought of Mom I felt reassured that I knew where she was, perhaps not the direct coordinates but a simple phone call could reconnect us, grounding me to this life I live. She was always here. With every breath I took.

People, my foundation of life feels like it has shifted. I'm still grounded to this Earth, but I feel like I've shifted a bit to the right and that doesn't feel right. When I feel the slap, the sandbags, the knife...that shift comes and creates an earthquake in my core. I feel horribly off balance. This life doesn't feel right without my mom walking this Earth, it can actually feel downright horrific.

I'm starting to feel the fog of grief lifting a little these days. I'm becoming more tolerant of life each day. I have laughed in recent days. I can look at my husband and kids and actually see them. I'm beginning to live again.

Nothing can change the fact that my mom died, but perhaps I will get more tolerant of this sudden shift to the right.  Perhaps stringing some more days together will make being to the right almost alright.


The following are actual quotes said as I took these pictures a year and a half ago... trying to engage Mom in some fun cause it seemed as if the girl was wearing her out.

"Mom, show me your Grumpy Cat face"

"Mom, show me your confused face"

"Mom, show me your surprised face"

"Mom, show me your mad face"

I can almost hear her saying "Mr. McGee don't make me angry. You would't like me when I'm angry."