Seven o'clock this evening marks the one year anniversary of Mom's "departure." Throughout this past year, we've faced many firsts without Mom...Mother's Day, Mom's Birthday, our own birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and just this week it was Valentine's Day without Mom. Kat and Dad joined forces to make our first Valentine's Day without Mom a very special and memorable one. Mom was everywhere. Mom is everywhere.
There is a quote I love from a novel that I read shortly after Mom crossed over last year. It was from Rosamund Lumpton's Afterwards. On page 383 she writes:
"...my soul is being born. I am a sliver thin light, diamond sharp that can slip through the gaps in the world we know. I will come into your dreams and speak soft words when you think of me. There is no happy ever after-but there is afterwards. This isn't our ending."
The night before Mom's passing last year, I'd been awakened by Sam at 11:30pm and had a hard time getting back to sleep. Lots of feelings swirling and feeling Mom everywhere. Sammie Cat had taken on an almost human quality, got on to my chest and stared straight into my eyes with an intensity I'd never seen before. She didn't seem like Sam, she felt like Mom.
I got up right that moment and journaled about the evening.
Interestingly, last night I woke up at 11:30 and couldn't get back to sleep. I'd decided to have an Irish Coffee (light on the coffee) because that usually helps me get back to sleep. I'd fallen alseep early while I was reading so I hadn't turned any lights on in the rest of the house. I walked into the kitchen and noticed something strange on the floor between the table and the refrigerator. I picked it up in the dark and realized, it was a photo of Mom's hands that I keep on the refrigerator. It had fallen. I knew, Mom had made sure to put it right there in my path.
We've all struggled in our own ways this year with Mom's departure. As I've written before, grief is an individual thing and is as different as the relationships that we each shared with Mom. My grief with Mom has been different than any of the other losses that I've experienced before. I would feel her presence, but unlike with the presence of others I've lost-hers was all internal for me. Last night, was the first "outside" communication. I'm greedy. I want both.
I miss you, Mom...but, I'm always glad to know just how close you really are. And as you can see, I'm not the only one.