Saturday, December 20, 2008

My Heart Hurts

Picture taken late December 2007 at our annual Girls Night Out


My heart hurts.

I have lost my best girlfriend, my closest and most trusted confidant, my mentor and greatest cheerleader, my Mama.

It was three weeks yesterday and yet I am still undone by overwhelming bouts of grief that overtake me like I’ve been punched in the stomach. It knocks the wind out of me when once again the realization that I will never again talk with her hits me. It is different from the absolute panic I felt as she weakened and I feared we were losing her. It hurts even more than I thought possible, and I feel more lonely than I ever have.

Several times each and every day I think of something I want to tell her, a little snippet of my day, maybe something that struck me as funny, to share a small victory for one of my children, or when I need a sympathetic ear or a bit of a pep talk. Next to my husband, she was the first person I wanted to share good news with and the best person to share bad news with as she always had the time, the unconditional love and the ability to make me feel better, just be being there.

Mama, I miss you so very much! If you are watching from heaven, know that I am trying to be strong, trying to carry on like you would have done, like I know you want me to, but it is so very hard.

My umbilical cord may have been cut, seperating us forty six years ago but I miss your touch, the thrill of what I call the cellular recognition I experienced when we held each other, the knowing I felt this body also is mine, or more truly, I was of you and will always be. I have lost a third of me, the part that was before, it has been cleaved by death. As long as I draw breath I will always have the now, as that is me. I pray to God I never lose what has become, my children. With the promise of tomorrow, I look foward to what will be. The day when I hold my grandbabies in my arms and I will recognize them both in my heart and in the cells of my being. I remember Mama telling me as she held my newborn daughter, her firstborn grandbaby that as she held her, she knew the baby was also hers, she could feel it. Another bond between mother and child, a grandchild. Please God, grant me this also before I go.

So, now I will once again, set aside my grief for a respite that keeps me sane and functioning, and will start my day. To welcome the Christmas season and keep the true meaning of it foremost in my mind. I know Mama would be telling me that life goes on and I must live it, so I will, with God's help and that of my family. Thank you, God, for giving me the large and loving family I will wrap about myself and draw strength from to carry on. May I also be a source of strength for them, too.