Wednesday, May 8, 2019

TYOFWM - One Monthaversary

It's hard to believe it's been a month since she died.  Sometimes it's still like a dream.  I wake up some days and imagine hearing the door to her room creak open... the sound of her walker as she got it over the door jamb... the slight rolling sound as she hit the kitchen linoleum... then the teapot brewing the water for her instant decaf coffee which she drank steaming hot... the refrigerator opening and closing... her special frying pan for her one egg... the toaster with her one piece of toast... then the roll back to her room and the creak of the door closing...

Then I really wake up as tears come to my eyes remembering that she's dead.  At times it's surreal walking around the house.  Remembering that today I don't have to take her to dialysis... that today I don't have to worry about a doctor's appointment... nail appointment... hair appointment... thinking that tomorrow I'll bring myself up to sorting through her clothes and shoes and jewelry... or maybe the next day...

On my first trip to the grocery store I stood for a few moments lost as to where to go first... you see, I did all of her grocery shopping, so I was used to shopping based on making sure I didn't forget her diet cranberry juice in the small bottles... her favorite wheat bread... her fruity bagels... her favorite ice cream... her stuffed crust mini pizzas... her Mocha Mix... Suddenly it was hard to think of what I needed to buy for myself because I'd always made sure I had her things first and foremost and my groceries came second to that...

Even driving back to LA and around Orange County was hard because I saw all the places we used to go to... I thought getting away would be better, but I almost lost it at Chicago O'Hare... an airport I have been to many times... there was Garrett's Popcorn - I always brought her home a bag on every trip and we'd been to Garrett's often when she'd come out to Chicago to visit... there was Chicago Dog - another of Momma's favorites... pictures of the Miracle Mile where we'd shopped at Christmas time... Giordano's Chicago Style pizza and so many other memories of times with Momma in Chicago during my med school years and the year I lived there as an intern.

And the thoughts that interrupt my day at times when I forget - I wanted to ask her about some paperwork I received in the mail.  I wanted to talk to her about planning our summer travel.  And, most of all, I wanted to ask her if I was doing the right thing with all of the decisions I suddenly had to make in her absence. She was my greatest council.

And, as I grieve and cover the 5 stages (sometimes all in one day) I get angry... angry that she died before her 81st birthday on the 17th... angry that the week I had taken off in anticipation of a road trip once she was cleared to walk again and would be coming home I instead spent working on her funeral Mass and burial.... angry that I never got to ask for the answers to so many questions that are now coming to light once I've started going through her papers... angry that despite 51 years of having my mother always by my side, on my side, on the other side I now have to go through life without her... and that still hurts worst of all...


*TYOFWM = the year of firsts without Momma

4 comments:

betty said...

I have no idea why I wasn't following your blog. I just thought you stopped blogging. Thanks for the message on Facebook. I'm doing well, thanks for asking! In Phoenix and have seen De a few times; she's super busy and we have different schedules but enjoy the time I get to see her.

You know, that first year of firsts is a tough one. I'll admit it. And with Mother's Day coming up, just know that that day will be particularly hard. My advice, avoid going out that day if you can. I know how extremely close you were to your mom and I know you will be grieving for a long time.

You are a doctor so no advice I can give you about the stages of grief except allow yourself to grieve and don't allow anyone to tell you something to the effect that you should be done grieving by now. I remember typing reports of older people that had pneumonia and recovered and being so mad because my mom died of it and was younger than they were. I couldn't make a decision for the life of me for months about what to make for dinner or where to go out for dinner.

Hang in there. It does get better, different but manageable.

Will have to come back later and read through some of your A/Z posts.

hugs to you!

oh, I do still have an active blog https://viewsfrombenches.blogspot.com/ but I'm not blogging a whole lot these days on it. My Corgi in Southern California I stopped keeping up back in 2011 and made this new one so I made that one private.

betty

Jz said...

I'm sorry you're having to go through this.

It's ironic. My mom died when I was 13 and people always say, "Oh, that must have been so hard!"
Which of course, it was, but I've often thought that it surely would have been a lot harder to have become an adult and always had her by my side... and THEN lose her.
Except then you realize that no matter when it happens, there is simply no good time to lose your mama.
Ever.

Unknown said...

I find that grief comes in many forms obviously stages, and it is so personal that everything everyone goes through is so individualistic. You and your Mother were very close and shared many adventures, and I know you will treasure those always. You are very lucky to have had such a wonderful relationship. I pray that God softens your sorrow but not your memories. <3 De

Kortni Ferguson said...

You know what's funny, before experiencing grief myself, I just assumed that people progressed through each stage of grief in a linear fashion. But as you said, any stage can happen at anytime or simultaneously. It must be so painful to pass by and visit places where you've created memories with your mom. My mom and I moved around so much, that I'm lucky that there aren't landmarks that I pass daily. For me, it's a song that my mom loved, or music she will never get to hear. Or an inside joke I can never use again. Or a feeling of loneliness that I think only my mother could understand. I'm just tearing up thinking about it. I'm so sorry you lost your mom. I know it's a part of life, but it still sucks. I'll def continue reading your blog. <3

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