Remember when I used to post stupid stuff about vaginas and leopard print coats and it was 2007 or 2010 or somewhere in between when I thought turning 37 made me old? I know. What a total lightweight I was.
Which might be why lately when I have wondered what time it is I look at the clock and when I look away I still don't know what time it is. So I look at it again and I still don't know, and when I look a third time and someone asks "what time is it?" I have to shrug and say "I don't know." My head is slow with sand and what, and the only thing I know for sure is that even though it's not 2007 or 2010 it's time to look at this photo and giggle because, indeed, there is a vagina on his neck and sometimes that is enough.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
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Let it out, girl.
I love your words. Talking about sand in the head is a feeling I am well aware of. You express your feelings beautifully. Maybe on that day you can take your kids on a hookie day and go to the park or whatever.
So, noticing vaginas hanging off of old men's necks is a good thing to do when your mom's death anniversary is nearing.
I had my mom's two-year in July. I finally took her ashes out of the box they came from the crematory in. They had been on the top shelf of the office closet since they delivered them to me.
It took me that long.
The other day, she received a piece of mail (because she still. gets. mail.), and I had to save it because of this.
It said: "If life has changed..." and proceeded to list the sorts of changes that might prompt one to get life insurance.
I looked at it and looked at it and looked. I showed my husband. I laughed.
Is there anything else to do?
I saved it.
Your sadness is going to hurt and there's just not much you can do except endure it until someday it's not as dark a thing to walk into.
I don't know when that'll be, but it will.
And e.gray--my mom is in my underwear drawer cause I didn't want the kids or the cats to find her. Sometimes I feel terrible about this, knowing she deserves more; other times I think it's so absurd she would love it. And she also gets mail.
I'm so sorry. and yet those words don't really say enough.
My husband works in medicine and he routinely tells me. Our families are healthy and it won't always be that way – everyone dies. And just that little bit of thought about that my mom and my dad won't be here with me someday is enough to break my heart in two with a giant gulp.
I'm so sorry.
I don't know if you've read Wild or Dear Sugar but I know my girlfriend who lost her mom when she was young - felt very close with those books. That it was at least written down, someone else's grief that resembled her own.
R--Tiny Beautiful Things by Strayed is one of my faves! And there is something in there that she tells one of her readers that I've been telling myself since the day I knew my mom was terminal: it will never be ok that my mom is gone, that she died. But I will be ok.
Thank you :)
Thank you Mr. X. You remain one of my very favorite readers, and those quotes are perfect. :)
It's supposed to be "stormy" period, not "story" period.
Thankfully, I have a day job.
Ha! Believe me, this is most definitely a story period, only the story is so unbelievable I would surely get knocked for the implausibility were the story ever be workshopped. You'll see:)
I know this is nothing in comparison to what your going through and yet I envy you,not for your loss of course but for what you had,even though it was not nearly long enough,its never long enough when someone you love dies.But as strange as it sounds its true,I think how I wish I had had what she had,a Mother who loved her so much and while the pain of losing that love must be excruciating the joy of having had it and still having it,because no one can take that love you received away,must be so sublime and wonderful to have had,its something I have always wondered what must that feel like?My Mothers alive.For years we were living just a few miles away from each other.I never saw her,or talked to her,we might as well have been strangers.My Mother is bipolar.All my life I wished to have a Mother that loved me.I remembered writing in my diary when I was 9 years old,"Dear Diary,why doesn't my Mother ever hug or kiss me?Why doesn't my Mother love me?"Ill spare you gory Mommy Dearest details of what its like to have an abusive mentally ill Mother,but suffice it to say I did not come out of the ordeal unscathed.But even now at 43,I still long for what I wish I could have had.And while I think how trivial it may sound to someone who's going through what you are in my heart I cant help but think I wish I could trade places because than even though my heart is breaking and empty from the loss that at least for that time that my Mom was with me that she truly loved me and cared for me and was in my life.So yes I suppose people can say your lucky your Mom is still alive and I would never wish she weren't,but a Mom that's alive and doesn't love you,well my heart is just empty,but yours is still full of her love.I know this letter wont help you but I just wanted you to know how very lucky I think you are to have had such a wonderful Mom in your life and having experienced both I definitely would agree that it is better to have loved and loss than to never have loved at all.Hugs,K
Oh Kacey, I'm so sorry. I certainly don't know your mother or situation but I bet she does love you; she is just too ill to be able to express it or feel it.
My mom had her weaknesses--which were many. But she did love me fiercely. Thank you for reminding me how lucky I am for that.
Now I want to give you a big hug and take you on a shopping spree which is what my mom would have done to make you feel better. :)
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