It’s been a while since I sincerely sat down and shared what is on my heart. I could use every single excuse in the book to explain why that is, but frankly I’ve just neglected my blog. But when I’m called to sit down and write is when my heart is the heaviest and today seems to be one of those days.
Obviously everyone has been through the ringer this past year, but I can only speak on my own personal experiences. And yesterday, after conversations regarding Covid, health, and mortality with my mother, I just need to write about how I’m doing.
I am extremely close with both of my parents. As an adult, my mother particularly still has me wrapped around her fingers. I hope the reasoning behind this is good upbringing and respect, but to this day if I find myself liking something, whether it be a song or an outfit, and if my mom doesn’t approve, I find myself second guessing my own opinions. Needless to say my mother’s love and approval are of the upmost importance to me. After all, you only have one mom. My daughter also has a particularly special relationship with her Grammie. I always joke that she loves her the most, but it’s also heartwarming because of the relationship that I have with my own grandmother. It’s funny to be able to see history repeating itself in certain instances, and my own relationship as well as my daughter’s with our grandmother’s seem like I’m looking into a mirror.
So that being said, I’m starting to freak out a little.
I’m freaking out because the conversation that I had yesterday with my mom made me come to terms with the fact that one day she will die. I mean, obviously I’ve thought about it and rationalized it. But yesterday, I felt it.
One day I won’t be able to call her when I leave work. She’s still my first phone call, even before my husband.
One day I won’t be able to ask her how long I should cook the chicken in the oven for (because why would I google this when I have my mama?)
One day I won’t be able to show her an outfit I’m planning on wearing and ask her advice on which shoes look best.
One day when my daughter asks to take a drive to Grammie’s she won’t be there at the door.
And that really sucks. It actually more than sucks – it makes me feel like I have a rock in my stomach and throat, and it makes me want to throw up. Because really, how can you ever prepare yourself to live without your mama? Maybe it’s because I’m a mom now too, and I think back to being pregnant with my daughter. Feeling her kick and flip inside of me. Having that experience with her that no one else, not even my husband, will ever have. It’s special. It’s divine. And I think out of all of the losses that I will have throughout my life, that one will be at the top.
And – (this is where I’m about to get a little bit political, so if you don’t want to read more, now is probably a good time.)
And this past year, makes me so mad. Because there was a time when I wouldn’t allow my parents into my home, because they ‘didn’t live with me’ and I was following mandates that were set forth in my state. And honestly, I do not even want to begin to think of the pain, and regret I would have felt if something were to have happened to one of my parent’s during this time and I hadn’t seen them because of fear. Some people may have said that I was keeping them safe, but grief doesn’t care about safely. Grief screams for love lost and one more hug that you will never get. Tell those families who were forced to have their loved one’s die alone in hospitals and nursing homes that at least they were ‘safe’. Your logic has no place with grief. Because all grief wants in one more touch, one more word, one more moment.
So if your parents are still on earth, hug them, spend time with them, and only offer an occasional eye roll as they offer silly advice. Because there is going to come a time when they won’t be here. Remember, you only get one mama.