If you are a long time follower you may notice I haven't posted in a while. Like. A WHILE a while. If you know me outside of the blog world then you know why. On October 10, 2020 my Mom left this earthly life. The past year plus has been a rollercoaster I wouldn't put my very worst enemy on. Ever. I have started and deleted probably 100 posts at this point because none of them felt right. None of them seemed fitting. None of them captured my emotions the way I wanted it conveyed. And then I realized none of that may ever happen. My counselor said "just start writing".... and that's what I'm doing.
Mom died due to contracting the virus which shall not be named. It was a hard journey. I watched her go through things that she'd have died if she realized. My Mom was the type of woman that curled her hair to go to the mail box. She was prissy and girly and boujee before boujee was even cool. I could try and describe to you what she was but again my words would fall short.
So today I don't want to write about the virus. I don't even really want to write about Mom (though I love sharing about her). I want to write about grief. Grief is a mother. And if you know me well enough you finished that statement in your head. Grief has been the hardest emotion I've ever experienced.
Growing up I lost grandparents, friends, friends of the family, an aunt. This was the closest loss I have ever had. I had no clue what to expect. Some say grief is in stages. You go from one stage to the next as you over come each one. I disagree with this on a cellular level. Grief is not linear. Sure there are stages. But there are days when I experience all of the stages in the very same day.
Early on there was a lot of numbness. I sorta turned my emotions off. My siblings and I, along with an unplanned appearance from Dad, delivered our Mom's eulogy. How hard it was to wrap up her life into the time we had...and we still went over. Classic. That morning I KNEW that to get through the day I had to turn it off. So I did. So if you saw me laughing or smiling, it doesn't mean I was any less broken inside. It means I knew I had to get through. I had to make it one more day. And then another. And then another.
Mom would want us to remember her fondly, tell stories that bring us joy, and keep her alive in our hearts. I've done exactly that. But she was always a little bit dramatic at times and I think that she would've wanted some tears and wailing too. And I've done that. I've been angrier than I ever have. I have laughed harder than maybe I should. I have felt it all.
It's so weird though. The other day I missed her for the strangest reason. Amelia had a migraine. Thanks to Mom's stellar genetics me and my kids are prone to them. Why couldn't I have gotten those deep chocolate eyes, or the skin that turned golden with the first kiss of the sun? I digress. So there I sit in an ER with Amelia crying in my arms and it smacked me. I missed Mom's migraines.
No, I don't miss a moment that she was in pain. But in those moments we forged bonds. Trust. Compassion. Empathy. And so much more. My brother, my sister, my Dad, my husband, my inlaws....we have all had at least one ER visit with Mom. She'd wait until the pain was literally unbearable and off we'd go. She had a sensitive stomach so often there was no warning that we needed to stop just "PULL OVER NOW" so she could be sick. She'd wear her Hollywood shades and her pain level was always an 8. After 3 rounds of nausea meds, pain meds, and her SNORING and the nurse would ask "Mrs Folds what's your pain level now".....an 8 she'd say.
On the way home she'd be just loopy enough to offer us gas money....more than once. If I wasn't a good person, I'd be rich by now.... anyway... so there I sat with Amelia and I missed Mom. I missed her when I had to have a small procedure a few weeks ago. She NEVER missed a time when I was put to sleep. Ever. I missed her when I saw "her" car drive past me and whip into the library. No...it wasn't her....but still.
I've been told several things about MY grief. MY story. I've been told I'm grieving too much, not enough, too fast, too slow, too publicly, too privately. It took me almost 40 years (shhhhhh) to get here but I'm finally to the point where no one else gets to tell me how to live MY story. So for now, I'll grieve as I wish.
A friend lost a parent the other day and I said "I'm so sorry for your loss" and it hit extra. I'd said that a million times before "I'm praying for you" and all of the other cliches. I now know, no matter how well intentioned, those are just words. So I've learned things through my grief. I've learned new empathy for the loss of a parent. I've learned to do more than just say "I'm sorry for your loss" and try and actually hold space for the one grieving. I've learned to not judge how others choose to grieve.
This may make about as much sense as going outside and doing a polar plunge (pretty dumb if you ask me) but it was my homework and even if I procrastinated, I was always good at homework.
Side note- The title is a nod to one of Mom's favorite songs. I love the version with Jewel in it. Check it out.That's The Way Love Goes
Makes prefect sense to me. When you know you know. Hugs
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