Esther -- Wow, been a long long time since I have seen this post. Thanks for saying some comforting words, and so very sorry you went through the loss of your own mother. Time may heal the wounds, but our souls never forget.
I went to my father's for dinner this evening. December 21st would have marked thier 52nd wedding anniversary. Our relationship has been very strained the last few years since I left "the truth." But, we are trying, he is trying, and I have to give him credit for that. We talked about mom, and Emmie said the cutest thing out of the blue...
She said "I miss Grandma."
My dad replied to her "She will wake up someday."
Emma replied "She isn't sleeping Grandpa, she is on the beach running on the sand."
Looking over this thread reminds me of what notperfectyet said when I posted this, and it brought a warm smile to my face. Almost erie...
your mama is running on a beach right now.....warm water, sand and sun...
Lately I have been struggling with life and death and what happens when we die. Past few weeks mostly I have come to the conclusion that I am a borderline atheist now, or at least agnostic, and this I struggle with. Death is so very hard to accept. I miss them damn it, I miss them both and I don't want to face the fact that I will never speak to them again.
I remember back when I was 5 and my real mamma died. I remember one afternoon holding a picture of her and I in my hand, and feeling so f**king empty, knowing she was gone, knowing I would never speak to her again. I loved her so much and for so long I blamed myself for her suicide. I remember growing up over the years, and the pain may have gotten easier to cope with, but there were times I would just break down and curl myself up in bed and just sob. Time of course has passed, and as an adult I realize I did nothing wrong, but that aside doesn't dismiss the sheer magnitude of death and the effect it has on us.
It's final. Beyond our control and touches each and every one of us. That is why we have to make the absolute best out of our time right here, right now. Life -regardless if it is a gift from the heavens or a happen-chance thing - is still life, and it is still sacred. You get one shot, might as well make it count.
Damn it, I am crying now. At Dad's tonight I went into my mother's room (they had seperate bedrooms) shut the door and turned out the light. I layed down on my mother's bed a while, and her smell was still 9 months later wrapped in her sheets. I lay there, my head on the pillow where she slept, almost feeling the warmth of her, wishing I could hold her close just one last time.