I’ve often read advice to the effect of, “When writing a blog post after a long absence, don’t point out the obvious that you’re writing a blog post after a long absence.”
Can you guess why I just wrote that?
In case you
don’t get it haven’t had your caffeine yet, it’s been a while since I wrote a post. I’ve been long gone from the bloggy world. And I am breaking the cardinal rule and pointing that fact out. ‘Cause I don’t care. ‘Cause that’s just how I roll. And I almost typed ‘role.’
Grand dreams. Grand plans. Grand illusions. When I began this blog, I was going to write a post at least once a week. Maybe even every day (but that was really never gonna happen). I sure didn’t get far with either endeavor. But I’ve been thinking a lot about writing lately, so I fired up the ol’ WordPress to see what my fingers have to say. And truly, my thoughts seem to communicate more effectively through my fingers than my mouth, so I write. And I write. And I write.
But back to the point. It’s been a long while since I shared. And why? To put it bluntly, my mommy died. She was diagnosed with non cigarette related lung cancer and we spent the better part of last year doing what we could to get her healthy again. And that quickly evolved into spending what precious time we had left on this earthly plane together in a meaningful way.
My mom was and will always be my very best friend in this entire universe. I feel a profound sense of gratitude that I can say that, because so many cannot. And on the flip side, that also makes the missing her so much more…void??? It’s hard to describe. I just feel lost and empty in some ways.
People say, “But she’s in a better place.” Or, “She’s no longer in pain.” Or, “You’ll see her again someday.” Or, “She’s with you…in your heart.”
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I get it. All presumably true and valid points.
But I’m going to go ahead and say something that I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone else say. IT’S NOT ABOUT HER, DAMNIT! THIS IS ABOUT MEEEEEEE!!!! I.miss.my.mom. P E R I O D
And in this emotionally crippled society we live in, this is somehow considered selfish. It’s selfish that I miss the one person, without whom I would not even be here. The one person who grew my body within her own. The one I’m most connected to on this planet, 44 years after we were physically detached from each other. I don’t think that bond can ever be severed. And yet it is selfish that I wish she was physically still here to talk to and share my life experiences with.
Can you tell that I may feel just a wee bit resentful about this? As I type, I can clearly hear my mom’s wise voice telling me, “Punky, resentment is like taking poison and expecting the other person to die.” Indeed. And yet. I’m just going to sit here and have my very own one [wo]man pity party while I argue with reality.
Phew! Thank goodness that party is over! Sometimes, you just have to let yourself be where you are. We’d all be better served to do this 24/7, but it seems 99% of the time, we are grasping at straws to be somewhere we are NOT. But back to the original point of writing this.
I was going along, living my life, planning a business with my mom, in fact, when next thing I know, she’s dead. Just like that. I was – WE were – in the midst of living life, and the inevitable guest we all meet in the end arrived to the show WAY too early in my opinion.
Too bad I don’t get to say how her screenplay ends. I’m not the writer, nor the director, nor the producer, of my mother’s award winning play. I was merely an actor, playing a bit part in her Life. I get to clean up the set now that she has moved on to the limelights of her next Broadway production.
As I celebrated my birthday yesterday, I couldn’t help but be profoundly present to the fact that 44 years ago to the minute, at 10:19 PM July 25th (and yes, I did take silent note of the moment), my mother was giving me life. It felt ironic even as I quietly grieve her death in that moment. And I am also profoundly grateful beyond what words can ever express.
I miss you Mommy. I miss you fiercely. 44 years and 13 hours ago, you gave me Life. Thank you.