Sept. 1: 9:30 pm. Today has been such a hard day. After the previously mentioned dreadful decisions we had to make about Mom’s funeral, Maretta had the brilliant suggestion that she and I go out for spa treatments. So I booked Maretta for a massage, and I got a spa pedicure, and we recuperated through pampering.
I feel, though, like life is now full of little land mines, and until I really absorb and adjust to this new reality-without-Mom, I am going to keep stepping on these land mines and getting hurt. The last few weeks, I think I was mostly concerned about the big things we would miss without Mom here. I’ve been worried about her not being there for weddings and graduations and to see future grandchildren and all the celebrations and times of togetherness that we’ll miss and need her. I’ve spent a lot of time mourning those big things from many people’s perspective. But I think that at least this week, it’s the little things that are hurting.
Last night at the get-together at Terry’s, Maretta and I talked about how we were both waiting for Mom to come in. I actually thought to myself, “I wonder where Mom is.” Clearly, I haven’t fully come to grips with the situation at hand. Tonight while Andrew was taking his bath, he was being overly rambunctious in the tub. I was trying not to laugh at his antics, and I mentally filed away the situation as a story to tell Mom next time she asked me if Andrew was still cute. I just simply cannot believe that she’s not going to call and ask me how my day was or that I’m not going to get to show her the color I painted my toes today.
It’s too much. She’s too much a part of my life, a part of the mirror I use to see myself, to be gone.
So I think I will sit here for a few moments in the throes of unhappiness and wait for a joke or a wave of energy to break the mood and set me back on the new track that I’m learning to travel. It’s just pretty easy to get derailed these days.
~Althea