Today is my mom’s birthday. She would have been 82. Many times her birthday fell on the same day as Mother’s Day, but it is always in the same week.
I have been seeing ads for mother’s day gifts and every time I do I think, would one of our mom’s like that? Then I realize neither of them are here anymore. I guess I will eventually get used to the fact that they are gone and not pause with each new ad.
It has been a little over eight months since my mom died. In that time I guess I’ve gone through most of the “normal” stages of grief with a few extra thrown in for good measure.
I have had those odd moments when I am doing something mundane and all of a sudden I just remember and tear up.
I have times when I think about those last days, the choices I made and the things that transpired, and I get the same sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had that week.
I have cried in the shower more times than I can count, my tears mingled with shampoo as I try to get ready for the day and feel kind of stuck and helpless.
I have learned things that have made me rethink, things both good and bad. I have tried to remember good things from the past. I have found the odd picture while cleaning that makes me stop, sit, and ponder.
I have been through other friends losing a parent and through helping to find a nursing home for yet another parent. I get weak kneed as I walk the hall of institutions and see the older people either “exercising” or playing Wii bowling, sitting in the hall oblivious to the world or talking together in the common areas of the home. I picture my mom there living a different life, just still living.
I have thought of my own mortality and how my mother seemed to purposely speed up hers. I have had emotions that I have never had before and know that I will probably have again someday, although I do not look forward to that.
I have heard that holidays are the worst, but that hasn’t been true for me. I guess part of it is that I rarely got to spend the actual holiday with my mom, mostly her decision (or my father’s actually) but I was fine with finding another day to celebrate. Mostly they didn’t want to celebrate. I would call and ask how their Christmas or Thanksgiving or Easter had been and they would tell me it was just another day. That made me sad then and it makes me sad now when those special days roll around.
I saw a study the other day that said your mom would live longer if you spent more time with her. It has bugged me ever since I saw it. It makes the guilt cascade over me even more than it had before I saw the article. My mom didn’t care to leave her house and didn’t really want visitors. I couldn’t get my mom to call me and when I called her she was quick to get off of the phone. Her reclusive tendencies included phone calls and me and I did not push myself on her.
Should I have? Maybe. Can I change it now? No.
I had originally planned to spend today at home, trying to just get past it. I have changed my mind and have now thought of a few things I need to go out and do. I think that is better.
Once again, I question what I am doing, what I have done and what to do next. I long to have one more conversation with my mom, to ask her the things that I thought I knew, but I am now not so sure. To make sure I understood the things she told me that I now question. To try to change the way things played out.
But I can’t. I can only push forward and try to do better. And for today all I can say is- Happy Birthday, Mom. I tried.
