While
working out this morning before work, I watched an episode of Charmed where the
sisters go back in time and Phoebe actually meets her mom. She was too
young when her mother died so she’s the only sister who did not have any memory
of their mother. Later on Facebook, I read something ABC news anchor Bill Ritter posted about his mom. She died when she was 61 and he thought
about all the things she missed. She was a smoker and I gathered that’s
what killed her. Mine never smoked, ate well, so what the hell!!
Bursts
of rage simply leave me depleted these days. Guess I’m finally getting a
hang on that temper of mine my mom always wanted me to learn to control.
I have your temper mom, so I guess you know how angry I can get
sometimes.
Then
there are moments where I feel extremely sad. I can’t think beyond the
fact that one day soon you’re going to leave me. The only thing that
would be worse is if one of my sons were leaving me instead. In those
moments, I feel the inevitable sense of loss overwhelming me and I am left
helpless in the face of the tsunami that is my grief. It crashes over me
and my footing wavers and for a moment I think I might just fall. I look
for arms to hold me but there are none. This is my journey and one I must
make alone. So how am I supposed to learn to do this, live without you and
at the same time, be you?
While
getting dressed in the gym I nearly fell apart as I realized the comfortable
worn blouse I held in my hand was one you had given me when I was pregnant with
my first son. He and his brother have long since pulled the beading out
of place and soon it will need to be replaced. Nothing lasts
forever. Wish my clothes would though. Who’ll buy me clothes when
you’re gone? Who’ll buy my sons clothes when you’re gone? I’m
actually glad you tend to buy things for them that are one size too big.
I can give them the things that you bought even after you’re gone.
I
had this brilliant idea that while you’re still here I can take tons of
pictures and videos so the boys would have something to remember you by.
Any grandchildren you may never see, well at least they’ll get to see you and
hear your voice. I hope I can get you to agree to this since you turned
me down flat last week. You were recovering so I understand your
objections. I imagined learning from you all those traditional Bengali
dishes you know how to make and making YouTube videos of them to watch for as
long as the company is around and my account exists. The problem with a
highly overactive imagination is that you can imagine yourself into places
you’d rather not go, at least not yet.
I
think right now, I’d like to simply rest my head and sleep. Yes, I think
maybe that’s what I need, sweet oblivion where I won’t think about you dying
and your inevitable demise won’t play like a broken record in my head. Everyone’s
life is still spinning. Mine is too, but I seem to be stuck in a
loop. I’m not handling it well. The daughter in me is grieving and
she’s scared of what her world will be like when you’re gone. But the
woman of faith you raised is holding on to the hand that you’re holding even
now.
There’s
comfort there, in our father’s arm. He’s giving you strength and he’s
holding me up. Even through my tears, I’m saying Thank you God because
you could have left me already. Instead, he’s giving me beauty for my
ashes. And I know I’ll cry enough tears to fill the entire Indian
Ocean. I will hurt like I am now and maybe even more. I may never
get over the loss of you. But how can I miss even a moment I’m getting
with you? You changed my life from the moment you first laid eyes on me,
held me in your arms, and loved me with a love so pure and unconditional that
it withstood everything I have thrown at it over the years. And boy have
I thrown more than a few sucker punches at it.
But I get it now. The love of a mother for her child
transcends every transgression. Kind of like the love of God. She
would lay down her life for children. Kind of like Christ did for his
creation. And just as he was rejected, how often have we rejected the
love of our Mothers? Don’t squander the moments you’ve got with
her. Tell her you love her. Better yet, show her
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