Last night I reminded A that I have a haircut appointment tonight and commented, "Is it horrible to be getting a haircut on the anniversary of my mom's death?" He is a loyal husband and said I wasn't an ungrateful daughter unless my mom happened to hate haircuts and all they stood for. Then we laughed and I felt a pang, because my mom would have laughed at that joke, too, and she and I laughed the same laugh - loudly at first, then silently with tears streaming down our cheeks and great, big gulping squeaks.
I think it's probably normal to be here today, going to my usual Wednesday class at the Y, taking my kids to karate, grilling chicken for dinner. I don't see how sequestering myself and crying would be healthy or helpful unless it's what I want to do.
I miss my mom every single day, but if I am being honest, I have to tell you that it feels more normal to have her NOT here. I hate that. I don't want it to be normal that she's dead, but it is. I expect it's the progression of grief and life, but I don't have to like it.
I was hustling my kids upstairs for pajamas and toothbrushing on Monday night and I started saying, "HUP TWO THREE FOUR!" and they love that, so they immediately fell into line and started marching, then singing the elephant song from The Jungle Book. I told them how my mom loved that song; the elephants were her favorite part of that movie.
I tell them about my mom every time it occurs to me. L has her forehead, E is her spitting image when she's wearing a ponytail or hat (? - I don't know why either), and C shares her middle name. Plus, I'm so much like her that there's always something I can mention. Every time I think, "Eff. I have to water those damn plants again," I remember how much my mom loved gardening and we talk about the pansies that we planted for her and how she gave me my own full-sun garden when I was their age and I filled it with snapdragons.
I am not sure I will ever get used to my Dad being dead, one day I guess. I still catch myself thinking I need to get Dad a Father's Day card for Sunday, then remember he's dead. Last weekend, we had our family Father's Day celebration and I almost expected him to be there. It seems insane to say I forget he's dead, but after having him around 40 plus years, it's really hard to get used to him not being here.
Posted by: Pam | June 13, 2012 at 08:37 AM
I can't believe it's been six years, Linda. When I stop to think about that, it just breaks my heart for you and your mom.
Posted by: Jody | June 13, 2012 at 12:05 PM
Do you still pick up the phone to try to call her? It's been three years for my mom and I still find myself picking up the phone to tell her about the funny things the kids did or said. And then reality hits me upside the head, yet again.
Posted by: Nikki | June 13, 2012 at 12:21 PM
I am having a dilema about the one year anniversary of my dad's death. I go to an annual conference which I thought was in September but it got moved to October. The weekend of the anniversary. I love the conference a lot. But we already put in to have the Mass Intention for that service be for dad. I also kind of want to be with my family that weekend. So I planned to just not go to that conference this year. But then I found out who was one of the key notes. And I'm a research geek.
At least I have a while to decide. Be home with my sibs and family on a day that is bound to be hard and have me in tears. Or go on with life and do what I would normally do on any ol day.
Losing a parent is 200X worse than I ever imagined. Last weekend I kept expecting him to show up at a party for some friend.
Take care
Posted by: Liz S | June 13, 2012 at 01:52 PM
It seriously doesn't seem that long, Linda. Wow. Time certainly does fly whether we want it to or not, huh? Much love to you on this somber anniversary. At the risk of sounding really sappy (I'm feeling very raw and sappy today), I think she would be incredibly proud of the person and mother you are today and if you're anything like her then she must have been great. Hugs, honey!
Posted by: Ninotchka | June 13, 2012 at 11:06 PM
Ugh. I am so sorry. I feel so much the same way with my Mom and Dad. 3 years for my Mom, 4 months for my Dad. Thinking of you.
Erin
Posted by: Erin | June 15, 2012 at 05:29 PM
That is kind of sad, when it starts to feel normal-ish without someone you love. Your mom sounds like she was well worth knowing.
Posted by: Julie | June 15, 2012 at 09:16 PM
Your mother is alive in you and your daughters. And everyday you live your life, and get haircuts, and laugh at jokes, you keep her alive and walking with you.
Posted by: liz | June 18, 2012 at 01:28 PM
A is a good egg. Thinking of you.
Posted by: CaraH | June 19, 2012 at 08:19 PM
Even though it may seem more normal that she's not around anymore, it sounds like it's great to have so many great memories.
Posted by: Heather | June 19, 2012 at 09:35 PM