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| This photo was taken on a sunny day in October, 2021 in the parking lot of the Tom Thumb in Pantego, Texas. |
I haven't written in a while. I have another blog. I don't feel as if this belongs there. This post is hard. It's probably the hardest thing I've ever had to write. No, I'm sure every post will be hard to write.
On a beautiful sunny day in October, as I was heading to see my mom, I stopped at Tom Thumb for something....not too sure what now. I saw this as I was coming out of the store and snapped a photo. I've never seen something like this before and I thought about how beautiful it was. When I pulled up at my mom's place, the hospice nurse was outside waiting for me. In my heart, I already knew what she was going to say.
I called my sister, husband and my son. If we were going to see her, it had to be now. My dad couldn't come because he was in the hospital and thanks to covid, we couldn't go and pick him up without messing up his stuff. We called my dad with FaceTime. We all stayed for a while and talked to my mom.
After a while everyone left and it was just my mom and I. It's kind of fitting. She and I were always together. We were inseparable. Where one of us was, usually the other was close at hand. A little after 8 that evening, my mother took her last breath on this Earth and joined her parents and multitudes of cousins, aunts and uncles in Heaven.
I called everyone, my dad, my sister, my husband, my son, his dad's family, my aunts and uncles, then our friends and my biological siblings. I finally called my birthmother. I think it was the next day. That relationship is a story for another blog and time though. It took several days for me to call everyone that I could think of.
Pain. So much pain. When you hear someone say that a broken heart hurts, you never think of the physical pain. You just think that it's emotional and that someday, it will go away. I've always lumped grief in with that. There is a reason we have the word heartache. It is a physical pain. Some days it's a dull ache and some days, there is a knife in there, and someone is just twisting it over and over. The pain is so unbearable that it's hard to breathe. You can't eat because the pain your feeling is so great that it makes you nauseous.
I've been told that the pain doesn't go away, it just hurts different over time. I'm tired of the hurt. It's not just hurt. I'm angry too sometimes. I'm angry because I'm not ready to live without her. I'm angry because it hurts so much. I'm angry because my life will forever be different and I don't want it to be. I'm angry because the one person I called every day to talk about everything from big decisions to the most mundane chit chat, is gone. She was my best friend, my ride or die, my person.
The posts that follow this will follow me as I navigate this journey.
This is my story.
This is my grief.