missautopsy: (Hopeless)
[personal profile] missautopsy
What a strange day -- one year to the day my Mom died with me holding her hand and kissing her forehead with my tears burning her face. I sat by her and watched the brightest light in my world burn out in her eyes. It's an image I will never forget to my dying day, the shine and sparkle of her azure blue eyes -- even on her sickest of days, extinguished and empty except in my mind.

I never thought I'd make it through the year -- only days after her funeral I bought a beautiful leather-bound journal where I wrote her letters everyday. When my health started declining the letters were fewer and far between, but never a day passed that I didn't talk to her, think of her and laugh at silly things we did together. Tonight I'll write in the journal again and tell her all the things I've wanted to share with her all year long.

I thought it strange that on Christmas Day it snowed -- I was feeling the pangs of loneliness knowing her infectious laughter would be sorely missed, even though I was surrounded by family, it just wasn't the same. It snowed. My brother told me that he thought it was Mom's way of saying she's still with us in spirit since it's the first Christmas in the history of Christmas' for us that it snowed. And now, tonight, on the anniversary of her death, it's snowing again. The lonely isn't the same, I miss her, but I feel her too and that makes my heart hurt a little less today.

Things have been happening that scare me and leave me uncertain as to how I should handle the future. My mom's last words to me the night before her death were, 'I love you dearly, Debra...' and, although it may sound trivial, on the day of her funeral, I asked for time alone with her before the coffin was closed, I touched her cold hand, kissed her forehead again with burning tears and promised her that she never had to worry about the well-being of my Grandmother (her Mom) because I would be with her until her last breath or mine. My Grandmother is an amazing woman; she's outlived three of her children and I cannot even begin to fathom what that must feel like. She has one living son left and he may as well live a million miles away -- she's the least of his worries. My Grandmother is showing early stages of dementia and it's becoming increasingly harder to be around her without paranoia setting in and lots of things I'm ill-equipped to deal with in terms of her health-care. There is nothing in this world or any other I wouldn't do for this woman. I know it's the illness that's making her this way, but given all the things with my own health, I have not been in shape to provide her the care she needs.

In honor of Mom, I made a trip to the cemetery and spent a short while at her graveside with this strange sense of peace I can't explain. Afterward, I opted to do something my Mom and I would have done just for kicks -- our favorite Italian eatery closed so I wound up at a Italian chain restaurant with a Strawberry-Limoncello Fresco to toast her life and the whole while I imagined her sitting across from me with the the same infectious laughter, telling silly jokes, pointing and laughing and having giggle fits as only we two could. It's snowing now and mad cold so I'm not sure I'll be taking that midnight walk looking for tree creatures like we used to do, but another night definitely.

I miss her everyday and not a day goes by that she's not in my thoughts -- rainbows were our thing, so whenever I see a rainbow in the sky, in a book or just a colorful prism effect, I know that's Mom standing by my side as always. So here's to my Mom and a life well-spent.
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June 2011

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