Note: I wrote this post on October 28th, nearly 2 months after my Mom died. It was the day before my little sister’s birthday. I’ve been sharing parts of this process on my blog, but in order to protect myself, I am sharing them several weeks or so after I wrote them. I want to be able to look back at these posts and see how I’ve grown… Besides, the emotion seems less sharp and raw a couple of weeks later? Maybe? I think this is my way of gaining perspective. So, ignore scattered thoughts. Ignore poor grammar and punctuation. These words were a pure stream of emotion.
Tomorrow marks a first that we want nothing to do with.
Taryn will celebrate her birthday without a phone call from our Mom. Without a hug. Without whatever it was that made birthdays special for her in the past.
None of it will happen and life will be different.
As you grow up, birthdays change.
I remember that moving away from my Mom and sister, or, actually when they moved away from me, my traditions obviously changed. I didn’t get the angel food cake balanced upside-down on top of a coke bottle sitting on the counter. I didn’t get the pink frosting. Because life had changed.
I understand in my brain that these changes are natural and normal, but that explanation doesn’t fill the hollow feeling.
I’ve learned a lot from various people throughout the few weeks and someone said to me, “It never goes away. No, really, it’s been 25 years since I lost my Mom and 17 years since I lost my Dad and I think of them everyday. Still.”
And then I heard from another friend who said the year of the firsts is horrible. That there’s no way to describe it. It’s just… horrible. And since I’m not really there yet… there have been no major holidays to speak of, to mourn, I’ve felt for her… knowing that our time, my time, is soon coming.
I don’t yet want to consider what Thanksgiving or Christmas is going to be like. IN fact, I can’t let my brain go there. The loss feels almost unspeakable.
But tomorrow’s loss, for my sister… it breaks my heart.
It’s like watching an accident happen in slow-motion.
I want to throw myself in front of the bus on her behalf. I want to slip on the banana for her. I want to be the first one to have to go through a terrible day… but I can’t protect her.
UPDATE written Tuesday, November 26th.
That birthday? We got through it. I wrote this post for my sister.
I started the day with a phone call to her; telling her about the JOY and DELIGHT that she brought to our family. (She was the cutest child EVER.) She was the sweetest, giggliest, sunshiniest little thing and to this day I feel like she was my Mom’s gift to me.
The day was full of laughter. And smiles. And some tears.
…but… we got through it.
We keep getting through it.
The Story of Loss. On Losing my Mom.
September 30, 2013 :: Slivers of Sunlight :: Post here.
October 6, 2013 :: That first week.Those first days :: Post here.
October 14, 2013 :: 14 days after :: Post here.
October 20, 2013 :: I found a treasure :: Post here.
November 4, 2013 :: She’s been gone for 4 weeks :: Post here.
November 13, 2013 :: I smile and drive and cry and smile and cry :: Post here.
November 17, 2013 :: Weekends aren’t easy :: Post here.