Usually throughout the day I think of you, and kind of talk in my head about what I want to write to you about. But the past week or so I haven’t been having these “conversations”–I’ve been really mad at you, to be quite honest. And even just typing that looks silly; I mean, can you be mad at a dead person?
Even though I know the mean-spirited feelings I have toward you are just my own perceptions–in the moment–they’re so real to me.
I completely broke down three days ago. And I feel weak for saying that, but I did. I mean, did you lose your shit now and then? Do other people? I don’t know. I’d hope so.
Naturally I called Allison, but she didn’t answer. I called Grandma, she didn’t answer. I called Nana, and she didn’t answer. And this made me feel even worse, because I didn’t have anyone to help me through this little hormonal emotional crisis, where everything and anything was upsetting me. I was like, where’s my person? Where’s my mother?
I kept thinking about Everett not having you–the thought just kept circling and circling, getting more intense and real every time I thought about it. I felt like I had to talk to someone or else I would BURST of anger. And when I say “someone”, it can’t be someone who didn’t know you, like Chris, or else you don’t feel real. Sadly, when I reminisce to him about you, you feel like a figment of my imagination–but that’s another story.
So I called Dad. When I say the word “mom”, he knows who you are and can picture and imagine and remember you.
I took the phone down to the basement to talk because otherwise I would be right in front of Chris or too loud upstairs while Everett was sleeping. I sat on top on my dryer, allowing the phone to ring, and when he answered, I burst into tears.
I cried like a little girl who wants her mother, and doesn’t understand. I cringed–and I mean, my toes and fingers curled and my stomach tightened when I screamed, “How can’t she get to hold my baby?”
And I cried to him about Chris’ mom. I’m not ready to elaborate on that, but eventually I will be.
Most of the time I understand very clearly that Everett won’t completely have her and doesn’t have you, but he has Terri and he has a lot of family–he will always have a lot of family. And I want to give him many siblings, just as you gave me.
But there are some moments/days when I cannot bear it any longer–the frustratiom overflows and I long for that mother figure–whether it be you or a mother-in-law.
My conversation with Dad allowed me to spill and become a bit more rational about things. When I hung up the phone, I went upstairs and crawled into bed with Chris, not really saying much. He usually knows the gist of these “missing my mom” demons and understands there’s not much he can say.
So he held me. He wrapped me up into him, under our cozy covers and I forgot the world. I came back together after having fell completely apart. I nuzzled into his chest, and thanked God that he is mine.
And as we were snuggled up, I was reminded that he is worth it all. And I have a purpose for him, beyond being his wife and the mother to his children. I know that sounds vague, but it has to do with what’s going on with his mom.
I’m sorry for getting so mad at you. I know it’s not your fault that you’re gone and you have no control over things that are happening. I just get frustrated with the whole mother word, you know? I think of not having you, I think of what’s happening to Chris’ mom, and I think of how I failed my relationship with who I always thought would be my mother-in-law, Mrs. Treml.
And then I think about me, trying to be a Mom without my own.
It is hard. It is its own challenge. And day by day, I am getting better at parenting without you. After all, I get to give the love I have for you to my son. It’s a love that can only exist after loss, the kind that knows nothing of time or space. It’s the kind of love that knows nothing of distance, only energy, and energy is all connected.
On a happy note, yesterday I had it goin’ on–my wheels were turning and I got things done. I taught the 6 a.m. yoga class, had coffee with a yoga student for about thirty minutes, then ran to Whole Foods for some fruit and vegetables for Everett. I got back home, and Chris left for work, handing over the baby. When Everett went down for his first nap, I made enough baby food to last a few weeks (hopefully).
Later on, Chris and I handled Everett’s bedtime like pros, using team effort to get the mission accomplished. We put an episode on of our favorite show, and I made queso dip to eat with left over taco stuff from the night before–dinner was easy and delicious.
I even finally did my henna hair treatment, which I’ve been meaning to do for months now. Before bed, Chris helped me rinse it out downstairs in the laundry utility sink. It was like I was at a ghetto hair salon. We laughed and carried on while I was standing, bent and all contorted as he tried to rinse what looked like stiff mud from my hair. What we said and how we laughed–I was yet again reminded that this love I get to have is worth my entire world.