I have lost a lot since the death of my mother, some losses come in the form of gains. I have gained a fear of cancer and illness. I have lost the reasonable understanding I once had with my emotions. I have gained even worse insomnia and most of all I lost a huge piece of myself. It’s funny because my mother and I where not close. Barely ever saw eye to eye. I was referred to the child she wanted then got pregnant and didn’t want but oops to late. I know the blame goes to the fact my father was a walking piece of shit to her. I understand the statement now but as a child just felt unwanted. It wasn’t until she grew ill and I came home. As much as I disliked many of the choices she made and resented the lack of support I felt she gave me in the end she is my mother. My younger sister lived at home but was raised very different from me and my older brother. She was also at a very selfish stage (still is if you ask me) so I wanted to be there for my mom because really no one else was. In the end I would hold the hair of my enemy if they had went through what she did. At this time we because close in the sense we talked daily and she was that person I could confide in or bitch to about anything or anyone and didn’t have to worry about it going anywhere.
When she died I lost my only parent. But with the circumstances of her death I was also forced to lose my truth. I am forced to grieve my mother privately and I am forced to sleep with my questions. I am torn often because if I feel sad I get mad. But she was so mean to me! I’d say to myself
And if I wasn’t sad I would feel guilt and regret.
I didn’t cry at her funeral. I didn’t understand really what was expected from me. I hate funerals they are selfish in a sense. The people who are closest to the departed are forced to stand there and accept hugs and sooth emotions of strangers or people you haven’t talked to in years maybe decades. I just wanted my bed. My safe place. My place to cry.
It’s the smaller things that make me sad. Holiday shopping, snow falls, those moments she would be my first call. The fact I was too selfish to ever ask questions like how did u and my dad meet. My moms father just passed and the funeral is 2 days away, the loss continues, and my aunt posted pics and a woman’s face looks so familiar and I will never have the ability to find out why because my only connection is no longer here. That’s where the loss of self comes in. The only connection to my past is gone. We don’t have pictures of when we where younger, no books, no paper memories just her stories.
I used to get tired of people always coming to me with their problems and no one being there when I had them. I thought that was the worst.
Until you are no longer left with the pieces to pick up, you are just left.
A picture of my mother and her father, may they both find their peace wherever they are resting
Leea 