Thursday, June 4, 2015


May is over and to be completely candid, it was not a good month. I have been dreading May knowing it would bring my mom's birthday, Mother's Day and the day that officially marked one year without her.

May also closed one chapter and opened the next, I left my job of three years and more importantly the desk that I sat at when I found out mom passed away and my "work family" that supported me along the way.

It is so hard to sit down and write about my experiences over the last year, especially the last few weeks, but I'm encouraged to keep writing by my friends and family. I know I will look back one day and be so thankful for this blog that helped document so many memories, milestones and tears along the way.

Getting married, traveling, working, visiting family and friends, making our house a home and "adopting" Mya assure me that life goes on and you're allowed to live again.

Celebrating our wedding, holidays, my birthday, mom's birthday and Mother's Day without her evoked feelings that I haven't navigated quite yet. Experiencing each "first" is every bit as painful as the other. I'm certainly not looking forward to the next round of "firsts" when children enter our life one day.

Missing mom at our wedding just two months after she passed was by far the hardest thing I have ever been through. The small wedding details didn't matter to me. Instead I wondered why couldn't she be there to help me get ready? Why wasn't she able to dance and celebrate with all of the family surrounding us? Why wasn't she there to tell me how beautiful I looked? Why wasn't she there to give her blessing to Dustin and I?

Moving into a new home without being able to show her pictures saddens me everyday. I know mom would have loved our home. I know she would have been up to help me decorate, explore our neighborhood and drink lots of wine with me on the couch.

Selling the home we grew up in and dividing up mom's stuff made things permanent. We no longer had the comfort of her home, her scent and her beloved items surrounding us anymore.

The easiest way to write about grief is by jotting down things I've learned/thought/felt along the way and will continue to feel, so please bear with me as I don't expect any of this to have the flow and organization that it should.

I've learned that grief come unexpectedly. I'll be walking down the street, browsing the grocery store aisles or working at my desk when I'm suddenly struck with a flood of memories.

Grief will isolate you and make you feel terribly lonely. You'll feel extremely distant from family and friends. You are experiencing such raw emotions that most can't relate too. This is especially hard in a new marriage. Thank you to everyone who hasn't given up on me, especially Dustin who has to live with me and love me through every up and down.

Not all grief is the same. Not one person is our family is experiencing what the other is. You should not compare your feelings to another. If you are sad, then be sad. If you are happy, then be happy. Don't feel the way you think you are supposed to feel.

Greif doesn't seem real. So many days I go to text/call me mom and suddenly remember that I don't have that luxury anymore. It feels so surreal and the numbness starts to sting again.

There is no remedy, solution or quick fix. Everything just takes time. When you are a planner and organizer by habit, this is so tough.

Everyone had their own relationship with mom and they will focus on their loss. She was a sister, a best friend, a mother-in-law, a neighbor, a mentor, a long-time friend and a co-worker to many. Everyone is dealing with their own loss, not everyone will share yours.

Greif isn't temporary, it's a lifelong struggle. It's a hurdle that you have to jump over every day.

One last thought. If a person was worth being in your life, they are worth grieving over. For 25 years, mom was someone I never thought I could live without. Her absence will always leave me with an everlasting feeling of being homesick.

I recently read this excerpt from Lament for a Son, and it was beautiful. So I thought it was the best way to end this post.
Rather often I am asked whether the grief remains as intense as when I wrote. The answer is, No. The wound is no longer raw. But it has not disappeared. That is as it should be. If he was worth loving, he is worth grieving over.
Grief is existential testimony to the worth of the one loved. That worth abides. So I own my grief. I do not try to put it behind me, to get over it, to forget it… Every lament is a love-song.XO