This is the week of the year I can’t escape, wish or smoke away. I can’t ever ignore it, celebrate it or wallow in my grief. Yesterday was Mother’s Day and in 4 more short days it will be the 8th anniversary of my Mother’s death. I just had to count it out to eight two times to believe myself. It certainly doesn’t feel fresh anymore, but 8 years seems like its been too long already. Not that one day wasn’t too long without my Mom… i don’t know. This is probably not a smart post to be writing at work with my office door open, as I’m already fighting back tears. But that’s just it. I don’t even know why I feel sad today. I mean, if anything, I should feel sad that my Mom has passed but I can’t say that is just it that’s behind the tears welled within my eyes. That is obviously horribly sad but not what I feel this week. I can hardly imagine what things would be like if she was alive today. I have no idea if I would be here, be with Greg, be doing the work that I do. I just can’t say. Her death changed me in ways that nothing else has and there’s just no going back. I can however, liken my life to those whom I am close to whose mother’s did not die too young at only 50 years old. I can liken my life to theirs, and imagine my Mom in the role their maternal parent takes, but only for a minute before I second guess. Because I truly have no idea what it would be like for her to still be here. I’m pretty sure that is the saddest thing.
Now I am officially out of kleenex at my desk and for that reason, along with a million others inside me, thats all for now.