Friday, February 3, 2012

Dear Mom: Four Months Later.....

Dear Mom -
It's been 4 months and a little over one week since you died and I miss you so damn much that there there are times my heart and body actually hurt.
There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of you and I'd give anything to see you and hug you and hear your voice.
And I miss hearing you laugh and I miss how much we laughed together! We were very very close, and I am so grateful for that.
And I still love you something fierce & I know that you loved me just as fiercely and are looking down and protecting me always!
But as long as I'm being honest, I have to admit that even though we were the closest of close, I still have major feelings of guilt because we argued on the way home from the airport the night before you went into the hospital - And that haunts me.
We made up by the time we got back to your house and had dinner.
And that's one of the things I loved about our relationship.
We always had fun but we had our times where we'd argue and disagree over something and then it was over - just like that!
Then we'd tell one another that we loved each other & we'd both say we were sorry and then we would have a good laugh about our silliness - And we would never hold a grudge.
And it is the most wonderful of blessings that THAT was how we did things.
Mom, I know you loved me and I know that you know I loved you, because we said so often and with such ease and appreciation and love.
But still, I feel terrible that we fought at all that night.
The next day I was considering going to the beach, but hesitated because you seemed so very tired and I didn't want to go.
But you told me (and I'm paraphrasing here) that you were beat from traveling and that you just wanted to relax and that I needed to go out and get some sun and that that I worried too much about you and that I should lighten up and relax and go have some fun.
So I listened to you and went to the beach.
And when I go back later that afternoon, you were sitting on the porch waiting for me and I knew in the pit of my stomach that something was wrong.
Then you told me you'd gotten sick and that your back hurt.
I called the ambulance immediately, even though you didn't want me to.
And later on, when the doctors said your illness had been brewing for months... I wondered if things things might have been different if that day had played out differently.
Mom, I miss being your daughter and even more I miss having you as my mother and my friend.
You loved me unconditionally - flaws and all.
And you always saw my light shine from within, even when I didn't - And you always made me smile.

And no longer having you in this world is a very hard to thing accept.
But knowing that you're with Dad and Debbie & your parents & brother and sister makes me happy and give me comfort.
I know that they waited a very long time to see you again. The days since you've been gone have been filled with tears and change and it's been a wild roller coaster ride.
And I know that the days ahead will continue to be filled with change and tears and I'm sure the amusement park theme will continue.
And I know that you are looking out for me - And I will best to make you proud of everything I do!
The first three months after your death were a whirlwind of shock and of being numb and of dealing with change and all sorts of crap.
Going through the motions was how I got by - I was on autopilot.
I'm into month four now and there are moments of autopilot for sure, but I am finally finding my back way to normal - Even thought it's an incredibly different normal.
I have moments of anger when I think of how much you suffered in the end and it literally makes me feel broken.
And when I hear friends or strangers complain about something their mother did, I want to shake them and say: Get over the small shit, you only have one mother and your lucky yours is still alive!
Once, I actually uttered those words to a teenager at the mall who was yelling at her mom.
She looked at me in shock - and for the first time in the history of malls and the teenagers who frequent them, I think a teenager was rendered speechless in the food court.

There have been days over the past four months that I've waited for the wave of grief to knock me down and I wondered if I'll be able to get back up. But I always do - I get back up.
I ride those waves of grief like a surfer and will continue to do so.
And I know that no matter what, the wave will eventually crest.
And I will always find my way back to shore - Because I am my mother's daughter.
And in those moments I hold on to you tight and use your memory as my lighthouse, rudder & anchor all rolled into one.
I feel your strength in me and with me and there have been a few times when I actually feel your presence.

And every now and then when I miss you most, I notice little unexpected reminders of you all around.
Flashes of lavender and purple in your favorite shades pop up when I need to see them most .
Hearing songs on the radio that you used to sing loudly make me smile when I'm in the car and just when I start to feel sad about you not being here.
And because the winter has been a mild one, the daffodils are starting to pop up from the ground much earlier than they should.
Daffodils are one of the strongest and resilient of flowers.
Daffodils are tough and beautiful at the same time and regardless of how tough life's winter is -
Daffodils remind us that Spring is just around the corner - Both cyclically & metaphorically.
Regardless of the elements or the obstacles, daffodils bloom brilliantly no matter what.
And even when their time is done, the daffodils beauty and strength give me hope and are unforgettable and inspiring and stay with me always.
So is it any wonder then that they remind me of you?


Araby62 (a.k.a. Kathy) said... heart goes out to you. My mom's been gone nearly 10 years now and it still hurts. It gets less intense, but it never goes away. I had a similar experience in my mom's last few days and I think she would want you to forgive yourself. And you will *always* be her daughter.


Janet said...

Dear Kelly, I have a tear rolling down my cheek right now...I lost my Mom last year, too. And you are right, no matter what the relationship was only have ONE mother to love (and receive love from). I am very sorry for your loss. I believe the daffodils, unexpected songs on the radio and beautiful flashes of purple are indeed your Mom's way of communicating to you that all is well for her, and she is with you in spirit. Hugs to you...

Gloria D said...

Heartbreaking to read - beautifully expressed. My heart goes out to you Kelly. (((((((Hugs)))))))

Scott Strange said...


I wish I could give you a big hug right now. You know tho, I have to think there is something beyond all this and that means she's still your mom... and always will be

Penny said...

Beautiful, my friend.

Jamie Naessens said...

Kelly, such a wonderful tribute to the spirit of your mother! I'm sure, wherever she is, she has read what you have written here because she is part of your soul, and she has long ago forgiven you. Mothers do that. That's a fact of life. A mother's love transcends our transgressions. I can't say anything to lessen the hurt, but hope at least the wishes from your friends help you move through the hurt {{HUGS}}

Karen G said...

That was beautiful. And I'm sending a huge hug - I hope you can feel it!!

George said...


WV - sauggess which reminds me of sausages but this is a bacon-themed comment so I am going to ignore that other breakfast meat.

Michael Hoskins said...

Sending virtual hugs your way, Kelly. You'll always be her daughter and she your mom, and all the years of happiness, love, laughter and strength are what will always stand out more than anything else. You're making her proud every day during the past four months, without a doubt. Beautiful writing here and best to you, my friend.

Grammie said...

What a wonderful relationship you had with your mom. Don't beat yourself up over the fight you two had, she wouldn't want you to give it another thought. After living through DKA last year, I try not to sweat the small things with my daughters. I've mentioned to you before that my mom has been gone 13 years, still a day doesn't go by that I don't want to pick up the phone and call her, but time does heal the sorrow.

Denise aka Mom of Bean said...

Beautiful, just beautiful

Anonymous said...

What a beautiful, poetic post. I'm crying... I'm so sorry for your loss. Your Mom must be so proud reading this tribute and she will always look after you, just as she always has. She is there in your heart and I am sure she is watching you every moment, protecting you as best she can. She is your guardian angel now.

Jess said...

kelly, this post is so beautiful. i don't even know what to say, other than we are with you as you work your way through this journey of grief. lots of love your way. <3