Yesterday, I read a blog post titled “A Letter to My Momma In Heaven”, everything about this was exactly how I’ve been feeling. I took a bit of a break from posting to my own blog, mostly because I’ve been trying to live my life as my mom would have wanted me to. But, I’ve also stopped writing because, it brings up emotions that I try to hide. And, as I sat there after I read the above blog post, I realized that maybe it is time I write.
It has been eight, LONG months since my mother lost her battle to Stage IV Triple Negative Breast Cancer. It the last eight months I’ve cried, begged, laughed, lived, but mostly I’ve missed. I’ve missed her voice, her warmth, her presence, but most of all I’ve missed having my mom.
It’s been a long time since someone asked me how I was doing and I don’t mind that. People have moved on. They may not think of her every day, they may not think of her every week. People have been living their lives. But me, I have NOT moved on. I have not erased her from my thoughts every day. For me, I have held tears back every day. I have imagined what it would be like to talk to her and have a conversation, rather than talking to the air I breathe with no response. She always had a response, whether I wanted to hear it or not. Now, I talk and she listens without saying a word.
The reason I push on, the reason I hold my head high is because of her. It’s because it’s what she would have wanted for me. She would want me to move on. But, that’s one thing I will never be able to do.
Before my mom passed, I had imagined that when I was pregnant she would attend my doctors appointments with me. She would listen to the heartbeat with me and we would guess what he would be like. She would spoil him before he was born and spoil me with “mom advice” that worked for her. But, I attend these doctor appointments without her. I look at ultrasounds and wish she was here. I imagine what it is going to be like raising a little boy without her around. I think of ways that I am going to teach him all about her. I dream of him knowing her already.
Life is hard. We lose people we love. It’s the circle of life. But for me, I never thought at 25 years old I would be motherless, expecting my first child. That I would continue this life of mine without her by my side.
There was a time I went to her grave every week to cry and to talk to her, because that’s truly the only place I show my emotions. (Mostly because it’s the only place I feel like you can be raw.) Now, I can’t remember if I’ve gone to her grave in the last month. I drive by the road all the time, but when I turn my blinker on, I don’t turn. Instead I drive.
So, today, I am going to see her, I will hug her gravestone and give it a kiss because that is the closest thing I have to touching her. Standing above her, my tears will melt the snow – and I hope she’s warm.