My grandparent's 65th anniversary is this year, and my Uncle Danny and his family came down from Montana to visit them. So I'm scrolling through Facebook and I see this picture of my grandparents, my Uncle Danny's family (him, my Auntie Linda, their son Tachie and daughter Tina with her son Conner), and my dad. My knee jerk thought was, "Mom's not in the picture, she must have taken it." And then I remember and I'm hyperventilating. She's gone. How could my brain go to the thought that she was the photographer instead of remembering she's gone?
Has it been three years, or has it been a day? This voice in the back of my head keeps screaming at me, "Get over it." Everyone has dead people, everyone has lost someone. You're not special. Lots of people have lost their mothers, mothers who were their best friends, and there's no reason to continue always be in so much pain.
I wish I drank, or did drugs, or something that would leave me numb. Maybe it'd be different if my day to day didn't use to involve her. Even though I moved 1,400+ miles away, she was part of my every day life. I'd talk to her every day, sometimes more than twice a day. When I use to work at the call center in Tucson I'd talk to her every day on lunch break. Every work day for the last month I've walked into the break room and looked at my phone and wanted to call her.
I'm not religious, nor am I a total atheist, but I just wish I knew where my mother was. Her ashes are with my dad in Arizona, and a small amount in an urn with me that I keep in my car... I just... I don't feel like its right to pick and choose bits of religion to make yourself feel better.
I occasionally flash back to the morning my Grandma died. I remember waking up on a Monday and my mom being home. It was the summer and she should have been at work. Grandma had passed away during the night and she was devastated. I don't think I had ever seen anyone in so much pain and sadness and I hadn't really understood it at the time. Grandma had been sick, for a long time, and wasn't it better that she was gone?
Is mom happy? Is she with her mother and all of the loved ones she has lost... or is there nothing? Honestly, nothing might just be better. If there is an "after," how is it experienced? Do you see the ones you've left behind, see them cry and hurt? How about an after that is like the old TV show spoof of This is Your Life? You're at an awesome dinner party watching highlights of your life, seeing the ones you've left and their the highlights of their life after you left. "And where we see Jim on his 65th birthday, camping at Big Lake, Arizona. He passed in 20..." and then dad shows up and joins mom at the table and you keep watching the show.
Everyone has lost someone. I've not suffered more than another. I don't know why some days I'm a total wreck and others I feel like we just haven't talked in a while.