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Saturday, November 27, 2004

Missing you, Mom

The other day, I stumbled upon Notes in the Key of Life and read a moving account of her grief for the loss of her father. Much of this account reminded me of my own grief and the pain of missing my own Mom. Cindy wrote about how she and her sister experienced the "(sudden) and quite (unexpected)" experience of being "blindsided by the grief, and burst(ing) into tears" as a result.

This happened to me so many times. Although lately, I no longer get this type of tearful outbursts in my daily life. Almost six years after her passing (in an earlier post I identified the year my mom entered the hospital for the final time as 1999, but in fact it was 1998 - she passed on January 31, 1999), I still feel the same "dark cloud" that Cindy talks about, and I still resonate with her words as she describes how the dark cloud sometimes "overhangs my life with dense cover, blanketing everything with sadness." She goes on to say, "Other times it recedes and even dissipates to the point where life is sunny and I think of him fleetingly or even happily." I must say I do think of my Mom in happier times, and I do get a smile across my face when this or that memory brings out the more joyful and happier moments I remember, yet, all this is set against a backdrop of deep sadness and loss. When I experienced the spiritual and emotional healng through the prayer ministry of Molly Sutherland and through the weekly counselling sessions I am attending, has led to the reduction and eventual elimination of the sudden blindsighted onset of tearful grief. Yet the backdrop of sadness, and the overhang of dark clouds remain, although not acutely, and without the usual pain that had accompanied it for so many years.

While life does go on, it isn't the same. Something is missing, and there will always be this inexplicable void in my heart. Even in our happiest moments, there is still this impossible wish that Mom is around. Shortly after Mom passed away, as I was struggling with the grief and pain, a friend told me that it is natural for children to bury their parents. While it did help me to see that it is a logical progression of life, yet it did not ease the pain. I just couldn't and still can't help but feel that it came way too early for us.

Mom had always wanted to live to see my children grow up, get married and have babies of her own. (Tears are streaking down my cheeks freely as I wrote this, for I know how much Mom wanted to this). In those last few years of her life, she was so physically worn out. Mom was a fighter, always has been one, but her body just couldn't hold up any more. Her body just gave up, although she was fighting it with every once of her energy. By then she could probably only summon up a couple of ounces. In a way, it was better for her to die, so that she would not need to suffer any longer, yet, I so know that she wanted to live on.

It is now just a tiny little consolation that her memories live on in our hearts and minds.

I love you, Mom.