I was there. I watched her leave this world. I watched her leave my life. I told her to go. I told her it was ok to go, and she did. But I was lying.
It wasn't ok that she left me. I am selfish, and I wasn't ok with her leaving me. I told her it was. I didn't want her to hurt anymore. But I didn't want her to leave. I mean, I know that more reasonable people know that you never really want your mom to leave you. I love my Mom. I'm selfish enough to want her to stay instead of having my heart ripped from my chest. But I don't actually want her to suffer any more. I don't know how to exist in this life without my Mom.
That is not ENTIRELY true. A mother spends her life teaching her children how to live in the world as independent adults. But I don't think children, raised by a loving mother, are ever truly independent from her. Its not possible.
Before she left. Before she was too far gone that she wouldn't respond. Before she quit smiling when she heard my voice. I made some promises. Promises that I will go to my grave to make sure they are fulfilled. I promised her I would take better care of myself. I promised that I would work with Dr, Terry to deal with deep seated issues. I promised some other things that will stay between her and me.
I have a lot of work to do to keep those promises, but I will.
I will talk about the last two weeks at a different time. Just like everything else, I am going to have to work this out through my words. I can't lock it up and hope it goes away. I have to let this loss destroy me, so that I can, once again, pick up the pieces and find a new way to fit them together. One that honors her memory. And honors the promises I have made to her on her deathbed. If a Deathbed Promise to your own Mother is not a way to make sure you turn your life around, I don't know what is...
I don't want to think about her not being here. I don't want to think about her boys missing their Ama. I don't want to think about her life becoming a memory. I don't want to think about the years I will have to live without my Mom. So from today, tomorrow, next week, I will focus only on how to live today, tomorrow and maybe next week...doing what needs to be done. One day at a time. Then one day will become two and two will be three, and time will pass as it is known to do. And as time passes I simply pray that the hurt will not be as raw. The loss will become a little less overwhelming. I will always miss her. I will always want to tell her about my day, or relay a funny story about the boys. Every holiday and birthday will rip open that wound, that hole in my soul that she left behind.
I have no cute salutation to end this one.