When I started writing again 29 days ago I started with the intension of working through the pain of my mother’s death and to “finish mourning.” I started down a long, narrow, rocky, unknown trial and now find myself on a winding, well-groomed path. Neither trail or path had direction signs but I found my way. I don’t have a destination and I like that.
I have walked down dead-end trails and found myself walking in a loop. I have become frustrated to the point of crying, fought with myself not to turn back and then adjusted my compass and kept going. I have spent a lot of time with my thoughts and putting them to the keyboard, sometimes typing as my fingers dodged teardrops. It has been an unbelievable experience to sort out my thoughts and feelings.
Death is a part of life. They are on the same spectrum; just at different ends. We hope the ends will be far apart but sometimes they aren’t. What I have learned is that even though the distance between life and death was short for my mom, I need to remember there was life. Her life, joined with my dad, made new lives. I have spent so many years focusing and obsessing on her death and what I had missed. I now choose to spend the rest of my days remembering her and loving her and her legacy. She lives everyday in my love of God, my love of laughing and in her grand-daughter Emily Eleanor.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014 will be the 44th anniversary of her death. I know I will be sad and that’s OK. I still remember that morning so vividly it could have been yesterday. I will remember, let my myself be sad (maybe even cry) and then finish my day. And the next day, May 29, I will celebrate my 53rd birthday. I will laugh and I will give thanks for the gifts of Emily, my mother, Mark and all the wonderful people in my life. I will also thank God for guiding me through this painful, yet necessary experience. I can now spend the remainder of my spectrum with love instead of fear and anger. I can enjoy my days as I know my mother would want for me.