On October 18, 2009, I lost my Mom rather suddenly.
She had been sick - very sick - but had made a miraculous recovery and was due to be discharged from the hospital the following day. For the first time in two weeks, I left the hospital. I slept. I allowed myself to relax just a little. I breathed.
Then I got the dreaded middle-of-the-night phone call. Blood clot in the heart or lungs. All that time spent recovering, healing, being made whole again, and then she was gone. *poof* just like that. Gone the ONE TIME I wasn't there to hold her hand, to comfort her, to reassure her.
The funny thing is, the grief wasn't like you see in the movies.
Sure, I cried and screamed and collapsed on my floor. That lasted just a moment before I went numb. I didn't feel ANYTHING. I think it was my brain's way of coping with her death.
I was the only relative available in the same city so all the details of death were left to me. What I didn't know is that death is very complicated for those left behind, especially when it is sudden and unexpected. I've never had to endure so much paperwork in my life. I eventually resorted to carrying my mother's death certificate around with me, just in case I needed a copy. Talk about macabre.
Following the numbness, I expected to feel lost. My Mom was my best friend, after all. I expected to feel sad, who wouldn't? I expected to feel devastated by the sudden disappearance of my mother, the one person who has ALWAYS been there.
However, it was the things I didn't expect to feel that left me reeling in my grief.
First, I felt angry. VERY angry. How could she just go and die on me? Didn't she know that I needed her HERE? Didn't she know I wasn't sure how one lives without a mother?
However, my real anger was saved for the mess that was left behind. I thought we'd had no secrets from each other, but it turns out that her financial life was in tatters.
I couldn't find a will. I couldn't find any life insurance, though I was assured there was some in place. I couldn't find anything. The bill collectors were circling like vultures. There was $5.00 in her bank account. She hadn't filed her taxes in ten years. It took almost a year to sort all of that mess out. It left me exhausted, with little room to feel anything else.
Once her estate was sorted out, I began to let the anger go. I was equally surprised that in it's place I felt a sense of calm and peace I hadn't experienced before. It wasn't just from sorting out all the mess: I slowly realized that I felt free.
Free to be me. The REAL me. The one I had shoved deep down inside me. The me that my very judgmental mother had made me feel ashamed of. Finally, I can live my life the way I wanted, without hearing her voice in my head, making me doubt my decisions, my career path, my life choices.
However, that realization hasn't come easily. It came with a huge helping of guilt, because who takes solace - however little it may be - from being "freed" from their mother? What kind of person moves forward after a devastating loss with a renewed sense of hope and light? What kind of monster have I become?
I struggle with this everyday. Even admitting it here makes me cringe with shame.
My mom wanted to be cremated. She wanted me to take her with when I traveled. I decided to take some of her ashes and have them made into a necklace. Being the dutiful daughter that I am, I wore that necklace every single day. I dreamed of my Mom every single night. I talked to her when I was alone.
But recently, I decided to take that necklace off. To leave it off. Part of me feels badly, as I have always obeyed my mother's wishes. The rest of me feels okay with this decision. Okay to move on. Okay to like myself.
Okay to say out loud "I love you Mom. I will always be your daughter. But I do not miss you. And that's okay with me."
It's been a long road, but I finally understand that grief isn't like what you see in the movies. It is messy and complicated and fraught with unexpected twists and turns. You have to search your soul. But you will always come out the other side. And sometimes, just maybe, you will like what you find there.
