November 12th was the two year anniversary of my mother's death. Is anniversary the right word? Don't you celebrate anniversaries? I don't know what other word I can use. The day was uneventful at best. Normal is a better word that uneventful. I struggled a little getting Max down to bed. Talked about future plans for projects with Julien. We ate dinner together while watching a movie. I knit a little. Julien went to bed early and I puttered around the kitchen doing last minute things before finally putting myself au lit. I layed down and closed my eyes and thought about my mother. That's usually what I do when I go to bed. I think about all the things I want to tell her and I tell her. Then I remembered! It has been two years since....
and I cried. Silent tears. Julien was fast asleep and so tired. I didn't want to wake him. I clutched my pillow to my chest and sobbed. Max stirred in his bed and I listened to him scoot around a bit. My heart hurt. It hadn't hurt like that in a months. The crushing pain you feel when you can't breath. Like someone is standing on your heart. I was a wreak the next day. I hadn't slept. I woke up when Julien got up to leave for work. Max had woken up for his morning snack before going back to sleep for a while. That while turned into hours. I woke up at noon and squinted at the clock. Rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I jolted out of bed and ran into Max's room to see if he was ok. He had gone back down from his morning snack at 7am. He stirred a bit and then turned his head at me like he always did and smiled his toothy smile. Reached his arms to me. He knew. He knew I was having a bad day. All day Tuesday, he was exceptionally calm. It was like he understood I need that.
I often think about the afterlife. More so now that my mom is gone. I believe. I have to because someday I need to see her again. She comes to me often in my dreams. I am grateful for that. And I catch Max staring at her photo on my desk and I wonder if he somehow knows. I let myself believe because it helps me to heal.
Two years gone and I it still feels like she's not really gone. I feel like she's on vacation or something. When Max does something awesome the first thing that comes to my mind is I want to call my mom to tell her about it. How long do these feelings last? A part of me does not want to let them go because I feel like I will forget her if I do. But part of me hurts so much holding on to these feelings that I feel so sick from sadness.
It is 3am. I should be sleeping but for some reason the words are just pouring out of me. But must get some sleep. I have a little man who depends on me to be 100% and I can hear my mom, as she did for so many years, telling me to go to bed. NOW. At least her voice is still strong and clear in my mind. I love you, Omma. And I can still hear her saying it back to me in her special way.
((((Aimee))))
I know. Oh, I know.
Posted by: La Rêveuse | November 15, 2007 at 03:49
aimee, i wish i had words to write that could give you some comfort....i was thinking while reading that post that your mother must be so very proud of you and the way you live your life in this moment. your account of your life as a mom is something i turn to and read whenever i feel down...thank you for sharing with all of us.
Posted by: mamie | November 15, 2007 at 04:26
I so happy your mom comes to you in dreams. I worry a lot about mortality and for some reason it's comforting for me to know that.
I send you hugs, hugs, and more hugs from Silicon Valley...and I do wish you peace.
Posted by: Stefania/CityMama | November 15, 2007 at 04:43
you are in my thoughts and heart today!
Posted by: knitterista | November 15, 2007 at 17:03
hugs to you...
love,
Mary Anne
Posted by: Mary Anne | November 15, 2007 at 19:56
Oh how I wish it was something that i could tell you to make it better. You will never forget her so I wouldn't worry about that. She will always be a part of you. When you miss her hug your little man more, pour all of your love or her into him.
Posted by: Wanett | November 15, 2007 at 21:07
I haven't experienced a loss like yours, but I hope that you find some sort of comfort during this time.
Posted by: Deb | November 16, 2007 at 01:27
I often think of the sad occasion in which my mama will no longer be with me. And the overwhelming mystery of it all is so hard for me to fathom. My mama is my lifeline. What will I do when she is gone? Your description of feeling like she is on vacation is so understandable.
I think that when Max looks at her photo, they are communicating. :)
xoxo
Posted by: Leigh | November 16, 2007 at 05:27
Getting older makes me think about things. Things like the older we get, these things happen and it's sad and you're well within your right to feel sad about the loss of someone so pivotal in who you are. Even if it's 50 years from now, it's okay to be sad.
Posted by: C | November 16, 2007 at 13:29
Hugs, lotsa hugs (even if it's cyber hugs).
Posted by: Terry | November 17, 2007 at 15:33
***hugs***
Posted by: nancy | November 19, 2007 at 09:54