You guys know the story, on the day that Mom died, January 24th 2012, I was 8 weeks pregnant and starving. How do you eat when someone just died? But I had to eat something. I was experiencing both life growing inside of me, and a piece of me leaving this world forever. So I laughed nervously at the drive-thru of the local donut shop, because there I was, my mother had just died, and I was buying donuts?! For whatever reason it made no sense to me. I don't think there is a food that makes sense to eat after someone dies. What would you eat? Seriously? I mean, we have to continue eating, we are still alive... what's the appropriate death-day food? It's not cake!
So, we still eat donuts and I don't even know why. Do I just want to relive those horrible moments after her death that seem to drag into eternity? Or do I think Mom would have a good laugh if I told her this story and that's why we eat donuts to remember her? Because I had a craving on the day she died, and, well, I gave in.
I would give you a donut too, Mom, if you were here!
Seven years, and I don't really know what to say about it anymore.
This seems to be the year that I feel I've finally said all that can be said on her death year after year after year.
I'm not hurting like I was, so that's a relief.
I don't harbor the resentment or horrible feelings toward people who "just don't understand my pain".
I did cry this morning, but that was more because I'm sick (caught my son's cold) and my little boy is still having asthma problems and I was too paranoid and stressed out to send him to school. I don't trust anyone else to care about my boy if he needs help, and today of all days I couldn't handle sending him to school like that. Not when he's still so small and needs me, and well, I guess I need him too.
I've needed him the whole time. He's been here for all of it, even though he doesn't remember why we eat donuts on this day, because his pregnant Mommy was trying to comfort herself.
So I cried, and for a minute I thought "it's because of Mom" but is it?! Or am I just tired and sick? I guess that's a relief, too.
Seven is kind of a big number when it comes to death. I mean, she hasn't been here for any part of my life for that last seven years! This seems to be when it finally just feels... normal. She's not here, and that's just the way it is. It's not devastating anymore, she's just part of the past. I have to seriously dig into the depths of my photo albums to find her pictures and now she feels like just a story. Mom is just a story I tell my children... was she even ever real?
I can't let this feeling be sad, because I'm immensely relieved by it. It's the first time I've felt this way in, shit... Fifteen years, guys!!! Fifteen years, I finally get a break from the grief after fifteen years!
That's almost half of my life. Half of my lifetime spent grieving my dead family! I get that number from Teresa's death in March 2004. That's when it started, and that number is even more crazy that she's been gone for that long. I've almost lived longer without her, then I lived with her.
Here's the thing: I feel OK about it all now. I mean, nothing about what happened to my family was ever OK. I just **feel** OK after all of this time. Not every thought is dictated by my dead family anymore.
Except that it is because of that book. Hahahahaha!!!!
But I did that to myself.
So here we go dead family! Let's publish a book so you're never ever EVER forgotten!