I have no idea when my mother died. I was there. I planned and attended the funeral, but apparently I have totally blocked the date. If my life depended on it, I would not be able to remember her date of death. I’m guessing it was somewhere between 10 – 15 years ago.
I went through some semblance of the “normal” grieving process, and after awhile, I only thought about her on occasions, which became further and further apart. My thoughts of her usually occurred at some family gathering when we were reminiscing.
But yesterday, Mother’s day, the sadness exploded. The hostess asked each person at the table to introduce themselves and relate a story about their mother. My insides froze. The sadness welled up in my chest until I couldn’t talk. I was caught totally off-guard. I had no idea where the sadness had been hiding. Plenty of Mother’s days have gone by since my Mother passed, and the only time I remember it invoking sadness was when I spent my first Mother’s day without her.
As my turn approached, I had to find my voice. I didn’t want to cry in front of these strangers. I was barely able to tell them my Mother had passed and it was not a good day for me. Naturally, that was a downer for everyone, because they had all been relating wonderful experiences about their Mom’s. But everyone, including me, recovered.
I guess it just means that she is still with me. She is still in my heart and soul.