Missing my mom

It’s been two months. Two months since we buried our mom. I went to the cemetery twice today. First I went alone. I needed a few moments to just be there with mom. I brought some flowers and placed them in the vase/holder on Nanny’s plot next to her since mom’s marker is not in the ground yet. I went back later with my girlies.

Last night I dreamed of mom. It was a bizarre situation in that I was pregnant, then delivering my baby(ies). It turned out at their birth that I was having twins. Mom and dad were at the hospital in a family room with the girls, they stayed while we were still admitted and took turns coming to visit us in our room. Before anyone starts asking… there is no plan for Ian and I to have babies. Getting married doesn’t change the life we’ve been living for the last 4+ years. 😉

Mom was helping me with the twins when we got home, she’d alternate between the two girls taking one with her and allowing me time to spend one on one with my daughters. I felt completely comfortable leaving my newborns in mom’s capable hands. She was really the only one I did, aside from their father. Since waking from my dream I just keep asking myself what I will do when I come across those situations in life when mom is the only person I would ever have relied upon for support?

I miss my mom. My heart aches at her absence. Yet, I still find myself looking for distractions to keep myself from letting the hurting take over. I make new friends. I explore business opportunities. I plan mini-vacations. I read up on election candidates.

Perhaps this is it for me. I’ll keep missing her in spurts and not knowing when the heartache will grow to bursting before quickly subsiding again.

These past two days I have felt particularly unfocused. My mind is moving in a zillion directions and all I really want is for it to quiet and to sit with my mind uninterrupted.

I am hopeful that a get-away with a good friend and a complete break from anything that is part of my daily life and its stressors will help me to quiet my mind again. Perhaps then I can allow the pain to wash over me and pass through, rather than halting it abruptly shortly after it begins and forcing the waves to recede.

About Trish

family legacy curator, social justice advocate, blogger, amateur photographer, reader, cyclist, runner & swimmer, mom of two