Embracing the Pain

I’m sorry for being away for some time.  There has been a lot of things happening lately.  Because of the date my husband and I chose to be married, I just finished a week-long celebration of events.  Talk about a whirlwind of emotions.

First there was Mother’s Day and since I have four children, I definitely deserve some sort of celebration there.  Then three days later, on Wednesday, May 13th, my husband and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary.  It’s hard to believe it’s been 15 years.  Has it all been sunshine and rainbows?  No, but I couldn’t ask for a better person to share those hard times with.  Then two days later I celebrated my 45th birthday.  Yep, I was married two days before I turned 30-years-old.

I was surprised to find myself missing my mom the most on the my birthday.  Yes, I missed her on Mother’s Day.  But I guess I was too busy sending special messages of encouragement to my friends that were trying to make it through their first motherless Mother’s Day, that I didn’t have time to focus on my motherless life as much.

I missed her on my anniversary, but I was too busy making the day special for my husband that I didn’t have time to focus on my loss.  But when my birthday came around, it all sort of piled on top of me.  Maybe because I had started a tradition about 20 years ago that ended when my mom died.

When I was in my early twenties I started having a balloon or a carnation delivered to my mom on my birthday.  It always had a note attached that said something like “Thank you for giving me life.”  It was always addressed to my mom AND dad, because it takes two to tango. (If you know what I mean.)  But in reality, it was my mom that carried me in her womb for 9 months and then continued to carry me physically and in her heart until the day she died.  So I guess it has always been my mom that I had felt deserved this gesture the most.

After my mom passed away, my Dad had became technical savvy enough to make an account on Facebook.  So for a few years, I had sent him a virtual bouquet of flowers on my birthday.  But this year, I didn’t do that, because he’s been sick and hasn’t been on Facebook for a while.  Plus, he was in the process of moving back to his summer home in Iowa last week.

So is the fact that I didn’t send my traditional (real/virtual) flowers to my parents bothering me this year?  Maybe so.  Or maybe it’s just the fact that so much has changed in my life these last 9 months and the one person that I wish I could talk to is not here any more.  I miss my mom so much.  I miss her everyday, but the hurt is just a bit fresher lately.

My mom was my confidant, my best friend, my biggest cheerleader and I miss her so much.  My mom is the reason I started writing this blog, because I needed to find a way to get things out of my head.  Not just the sorrow I felt about losing her, but just my everyday stories.  There were times we would talk on the phone for hours, because I had to tell her about all the things that the kids had done recently.

So when my mom died, I lost my one-person audience that I could always depending on listening to me.  Don’t get me wrong, I have friends that listen to my stories and there is always Frank.  Of course, Frank doesn’t always hear me at times.  If there is a special game on the TV, I can talk for hours and he wouldn’t have a clue what I said.  My mom was the one person that would listen to the same stories and not tell me that I had already told her that.  She could finish my sentences for me and if there was ever a time when I lost my train of thought, she would overlook it and we would go on to another topic.

We would talk on the phone for more than an hour and afterward my dad would ask her what we talked about and she would say, “Not much.”  Because we would talk about anything and everything.  Things that were important and things that didn’t matter.  We just loved to talk or maybe you could say that we loved to hear each other’s voices.

If I ever tried to hide the fact that I was worried or scared about something, she could always see right through it.  Even if we were speaking on the phone and I tried to act nonchalant, she could tell by the tone in my voice that something was wrong.

She had this mother’s intuition about her that told her when she needed to give me a call.  She would call me up and tell me that I had been on her mind a lot and then I would tell her of some struggle I had dealt with.

My mom was amazing and I miss hearing her voice.  I miss telling her about my dreams and confiding about my fears.  I miss telling her about some stupid thing that her grandchildren did or telling her some great achievement they accomplished.

The bottom line is, I miss my mom so much it hurts.  And I don’t know how to make the pain go away or even if I want it to go away.  It might sound silly, but if my pain for her loss goes away, does that mean my love for her goes away too?  So I guess instead of wanting things to be easier and not so painful, I should embrace the pain and find a way to celebrate the fact that my love for my mom is so strong that it physically hurts.  I can’t think of a better tribute that I could give my beloved mom.

Thank you for listening to me ramble.  To those of you who have lost your mom or dad or someone very special, I hope you can find a point in your mourning to embrace the pain your broken heart is feeling and celebrate that your love was so strong.

Also remember, it’s okay to cry.  I think that a person needs to shed tears to clear their emotions.  To get the good and bad emotions out of their systems.  I use to be the type that didn’t want to cry in front of someone.  Now, I will cry at the drop of the hat, in a room full of people, and not care if everyone notices.  So go ahead and give yourself a chance to have a good cry.  We all need to do it now and then and in the end, you’ll feel a lot better.  I know I did.

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