I haven't written here for a month. It hasn't felt necessary. Although the other day I began thinking that the busy tasks of my life keep me from diving into a deep hole. Every time I do something I love, enjoy or that makes me feel like I've added something to the world - I think of my mother. I think of her face hearing me tell her about something I've done, and I can hear her say,
I also missed her in a very deep way a few weeks back when I was involved in a rather upsetting situation, one that left me feeling beaten up emotionally. I really missed not being able to talk to her. There was a specific moment that day where I just wanted to...dissipate and blend with her and my father. It was a real visceral moment of understanding she was not there this time either. And only my mother could say some of the things I wanted to hear that day.
Our mothers - or at least mine, and many of the mothers I've known in my world - want us to be happy. They don't want to see us suffer. I think of the times my mother would come over to my house some 12 years ago, before I met Martyn, and I had a real broken heart over someone. I am the kind of person who suffers hard and intensely, but then I get it out of my system. But I remember how she suffered seeing me so sad.
When I miss my mother on a daily basis, I think of her smiling, talking on the phone, showing me how she is happy I am happy.
When I see the leaves falling, I think of my parent's bodies and ashes returning to the earth. It is helpful to know they are right here under my feet somehow.
I have had so many happy days, more happy than sad. I hope people that are suffering a loss can hold onto the belief they will have great joys again.