DISCLAIMER: This is probably one of those topics I'm not supposed to share with other people. Aren't we all supposed to pretend like things are shiny and perfect in our lives? Well, here's a bit of honesty for you. Well, I guess it's really more for me. But it's not my most shining moment, I'll say that.
I've spent the night cleaning. The mood strikes me every now and then I the piles that I normally pay little attention to suddenly need to be cleaned up immediately. That struck me about 5:30 tonight- I needed everything clean.
As I was lifting the cowhide rug in the livingroom to give it a shake and sweep the floor, I started thinking of my mom. She bought it for me the Christmas we moved into the house. I asked for it specifically. I always wanted one. Craig hates it and I love it. Mom thought it was an odd request, but one she granted, none the less.
So as I thought about Mom, it struck me: I miss her.
That may sound odd, since she died almost 7 months ago. Honestly, I blocked so much of that because I was pregnant that I haven't really felt much about it. I didn't really allow myself to process it. I couldn't dwell on it because I felt like the fact that I didn't have parents anymore might just consume me. I had to focus on getting a baby safely into the world. I didn't have time or the energy to fall apart. It felt weird that she wasn't here. I felt shock. Disbelief (big time). I feel a void. I thought of her often. I felt urges to call her. But it was hard to say I missed her.
Honestly, it's hard to grieve for someone you've already grieved. My mom was never the same after her third DWI. Her husband and I have talked about it and we both believe some sort of permanent damage was done. She would talk in circles, telling you the same thing over and over or asking you something she already asked you. And she wasn't always able to come to logical conclusions on things. It was more than our normal not seeing eye to eye. She was different. And it was hard. And she was very depressed. And lonely. She had been my entire life, but it had increased in severity the last several years of her life. I honestly can't count the number of times she threatened to kill herself. And I tried and tried and tried to get her to turn things around. To get out of the house. To volunteer. To get a job. To start a hobby. To stop taking all the pills. To stop drinking all the diet coke. To stop drinking. To eat well. To love herself. But I couldn't. She had to make all those decisions for herself. And she wouldn't. So I stepped back. I put up walls. I came to terms with the situation- this is how she is. This is how she's always going to be. This is how she chooses to live her life. All I can do is support her when she makes good decisions and hope they stick. And unless she asks, I'll try not to say anything about the bad. The mom I knew who baked hundreds of cookies at Christmas and dressed nice and fixed her hair and makeup everyday and loved to dance and have a good time- she wasn't there anymore. And though she said she told everyone she knew how proud she was of me, she used to talk about me to my dad or my brother. Resentful of the things I achieved or did. She said I was spoiled and she thought that I thought I was better than everyone else. Holier than thou, she liked to say. She started to hide things from me if she knew I didn't approve of them. Not well, mind you, but there was a definite wedge between us.
So when she died, I was shocked. I was sad. But it was hard to miss her. It was hard to miss so much bad.
But as I swept the hallway this evening, I realized it's been long enough now. I've healed some. I miss her.
I told Craig when she died that it was kind of a blessing in disguise. There's no question that both of my parents had their faults. And it broke my heart that Lorelai would never know either of them. Would never see me in either of them. Would never understand. But now, she just gets to see this shiny pristine memory of them. She gets to know them by the good stories we tell. The pictures of happy times. She won't be awakened by phone calls at midnight like I was sometimes. She's spared from all of the yucky stuff. She only knows what we tell her. Wouldn't it be nice if people only knew the good things about you?
When my dad died, the memory of his frail cancer filled body was so fresh in my mind that I didn't think I would ever remember him healthy again. I couldn't- I tried. When I thought of my dad, it was a shell of who he used to be. Then slowly, I started to remember him happy and full of life. And all that bad is still there. I don't think I'll ever forget that. But when I think of my dad, it's all good things now.
The same was true when Mom died. When I thought of her, I thought of the bad, even though we had had a couple good weeks towards the end. But I'm finding it easier to remember her kindness. Her love. And I miss her. I don't know that I'll ever feel closure about it. She was gone too soon. I never had a chance to say goodbye. But I can say, without hesitation now, that I miss her.
I've said since Dad died that time doesn't heal all wounds. But maybe it does heal some of them.
