I carry it with me everyday. Like a weight or a scar that will never go away. I hide it better, my smiles look more genuine, others move on and forget, and who I am now, how I have changed is invisible to everyone. I have always felt that way, invisible. I didn't feel that way with her, I felt like she understood me, and I could be myself to her. I never felt like she found me dull or plain. I don't think other people really see who I am, and I don't know if that is because I just don't show them, or because my own self-perception is distorted.

Now just because I live with some pain, with some yearning to see or talk to my mother again, does not mean I am unhappy. I am certainly more happy now then I was last year, more healthy, more put together. I take joy from my daughter and all of the wonderful ways in which she is growing. Chad and I are hiking, reading together, loving each other. I am proud of my brothers and all they are accomplishing.

But I miss her every day. And despite rationally knowing I am not the only one, I do sometimes think I am. It is quite lonely without my best friend.

I miss you Mom.

A New Year

A new year is coming. I hope it brings smiles and laughter with less pain behind them. I hope it brings good luck and joy to those I care about, and less tragedy. I hope I have an angel watching over me this year.

Dreams... what are they?

I have been meaning to write something about this for awhile, and I hope some people will offer their insight to me. For other MD's or people who have lost someone, have you had dreams of that person? What were they like and what is your opinion of them? I suppose this also leads into a discussion of faith... something I am very undecided about since my mom died. Before she died, I would have sworn there is an afterlife, sworn that everything happens for a reason and that we will get signs from those who have passed once they are no longer with us... but I guess because things have not been like what I would have expected, I'm not sure what to believe anymore. Most people I have talked to, like my brother, have had very similar dreams to me. In the dream, we are aware that our mom is dead, and a little shocked by it. She too is aware of it and then downplays it until we can move forward into wherever that dream may take us. Have you had similar experiences? Do you take these as some type of "visitation" of sorts or do you think they are purely psychological? I remember the first dream of my mom after she died. It was about three weeks later, and it was in the middle of the day. I took a nap and there she was, as clear as day. That one dream was more real then any other dream I have ever experienced in all of my life. In fact, I remember telling myself in my dream that I would have to call Joe (my friend whose mom died a few years ago) to tell him that I was sure there was a heaven. In my dream, we did the whole "um, aren't you dead?" thing. Then we went for a drive and she seemed very happy and laughed, and overall it was great. Since then I have had other dreams of her. Most of time we both can acknowledge her death, occasionally in my dream it was all just a big mistake and she is alive again (but again, always the acknowledgement of what happened). They have not ever felt as "real" as that one dream. Some are clear and some are not. Some make perfect sense and some do not. And I can never predict when they will happen... I want to believe they are something more then mine own psychology playing with me. I mean, if it was that, why can't I dream about her every night? I certainly think about her every day. I would think they would be more often if they were driven by our thoughts. Why do so many people have these types of dreams after someone dies? I have thought about this for over a year now, but was reminded of it again last week when my uncle called me. He called to tell me that he had a dream about my mom that day. He said it was the most realistic and clear dream he has ever had. And it made me wonder.

I would love to hear other people's experiences and thoughts on this topic. I guess I feel the same way about "signs" from her. At first, there were a handful of things I thought must have had something to do with my mom, but I feel as if those are less and less these days. And lastly, the concept of healing. Do we heal from significant deaths in our lives? Surprisingly, I had never even considered it before because I somehow just assumed from the first day that I would forever be living with this pain. I understand that it changes, and it has changed for me... if I think about what life was like this time last year compared to this year, the feeling and the experience of it has changed. Does that mean I am healing or that I am learning how to live with it? I think I am in some ways terrified of the concept of healing. I don't know why... maybe I am afraid of forgetting her. I realize that sounds ridiculous, considering I have had even one day since she died that I have not thought about her. Or maybe I am afraid that she will mean less if I am healed. And if we do heal, how long does that process take and what does it look like when it happens? How do we know?

Epiphany?

Last night I was thinking of my mom as I was driving, wondering to myself what it is that has made this such a life altering event, why I seem to feel so empty without her in my life. The answers to those questions are complicated without question, but one of the things I realized is that she was the one person who I never felt invisible to. It is hard to explain... but my whole life I have felt invisible, felt as if there is nothing unique or special to who I am. I have no extreme unique talents, I live in a small house in the same state I have lived my whole life. Growing up, I tried to be the "easy" child. Get good grades, listen to my parents, try to somehow lessen the stress they were under with my brother. And that fly under the radar thing has sort of stuck with me, and made me think that no one would even notice if I wasn't around. My mom and I used to talk everyday, if I didn't call her for more then a day she would most def be calling me to see what was up. I know I can't expect anyone to take that role over now that she is gone. But my Dad and I for awhile were talking every day. I was calling him because I felt like I needed to call someone, it was what I had done for years and years. But then I get depressed and I don't call, and no one calls to wonder why.

And my mom wanted to talk to me just because. Just to see how my day was or to tell me about hers. If I was hurt or angry about something she was the biggest support. She helped me feel justified when that was what I needed. Now I call people and hang up feeling like just a burden. They talk to me because I suppose they feel it is their duty, but mostly they say they don't want to be in the middle of things (which sounds a lot like I don't care to hear about it).

So I guess one of the things I miss most about my mom, is how she made me feel worthwhile, noticed, special, unique, important... and without her my cloak of invisibility seems to be working its awful magic.

I had a dream about her again last night. It is a recurring theme now. In my dream she is suddenly alive again. Either by miracle or by some gross error in thinking she had been dead, she is back, alive and smiling again. And I love these dreams and hate them. I get angry because I feel like it is my subconcious still secretly hoping that this isn't real, this isn't permanent. And when I wake up, I have to face the reality that no such miracle could ever happen.

So where to from here? Therapy I suppose, lol. Who knows really. One foot in front of the other, one day after another. Will my smile ever hold real happiness behind it again? I can smile, I have always been able to smile a lot... but it isn't quite real, or at least not the same. And I have been dreaming of things I want to accomplish, but I have this nagging voice in my head that keeps telling me my dreams are stupid and childish wants from someone who can't get over their mother's death. So I am pulled both ways and not sure how to give myself the push I need to just go after my dreams.

Love and Hope, Sadness and Grief

I think of you when I wake up... usually as I am in the shower, getting ready for another day, or doing my make-up...

I think of you when I am laughing at Abaigeal, when she does something adorable or new, something funny or endearing...

I think of you when I am having a good day and want to share it with someone...

I think of you when I am having a horrible day and want to crawl into bed, cry and sleep the day away...

I think of you when I need advice and have no one to call...

I think of you when I pick up the phone to call Dad, or Nana, or anyone who I try to turn to, when the one person I need is no longer here...

I think of you when I accomplish something and want you to be proud of me...

I think of you when I make mistakes and know you would not be so proud of me, but you would still love me anyway...

I think of you when I hear certain songs on the radio, mostly country songs that always make me cry...

I think of you when I write to Mikie in jail, or recieve letters back from him (I wish we could talk about it)...

I think of you when I see your paintings on my wall or your photos on my refrigerator...

I think of you when I go to sleep, always hoping that I will get to have a dream of you...

Sometimes I am filled with anger.

anger at God... or the universe... or whatever caused this...

anger at Mike, for being so irresponsible, for making me feel so insignificant that I don't even deserve a phone call or a response, for treating you the way he treated you...

anger at you for not eating better and being more pro-active...

anger at myself for not forcing you to see a doctor about your foot...

anger at myself for not giving you a hug goodbye when I had the chance...

Sometimes I am filled with gratitude.

gratitude for the life and the love you gave me...

gratitude that we were so close, that I could truly call you my friend...

gratitude for having you to plan my wedding with, watch me get married, meet my daughter, teach me the beginnings of motherhood...

gratitude for showing me what it means to accept yourself...

gratitude for your laughter and sense of humour....

gratitude for my beautiful amazing little girl...

gratitude for my family and friends...

gratitude for the book you wrote and the smiles and laughs it gives me...

gratitude for women like Ellie who have helped guide me through this...

gratitude for the role model you have been...

gratitude for the memories...

Sometimes I am filled with hope.

hope for the things I will do with my life...

hope for Abaigeal and the life she will have...

hope that there is something, anything, after we die...

hope that you are looking over us...

hope that I am making you proud...

hope that I will see you again someday...

hope that Mikie will someday recover...

hope that James will get through these difficult years and have an amazing future...

hope that someday I will feel truly happy again....

Sometimes I am filled with sadness.

Sadness that I can not describe and will not try.

Through it all I am always filled with love. Love from you and for you. And that love will carry me through.

Up and Down

I have heard grief described as ocean like, heard that you can sometimes be knocked over by the waves. I read somewhere else about "grief attacks". I think, over a year later, this is the first time I felt like a wave came out of no where and just knocked me over. I thought I was doing so good. I have tried to focus on myself, do things for myself, follow one of my dreams and I felt really good about it. But I knew this thing was bothering me. Maybe it was just that one thing, or maybe a combination of all the things that seem to keep happening, but whatever it was has been nagging. I have tried to call people in my family to talk about it. They know what is going on, so I turn to them for advice. But it never feels comfortable. I feel more like a nuisance or a hassle trying to ask for help with this. It never ever once felt that way when I called my mom. I keep trying and trying to figure out what she would want me to do right now, I have two opposite choices in how I can handle it, and for the life of me I don't know what she wants. So tonight I guess this wave that has been building and building finally broke and caught me off guard. If things happen for a reason, then her dying should mean that I am strong enough to get through this alone and to depend on myself, but times like this just feel plain lonely. I know as time continues to move, the good days and the positive moments should feel longer and the sudden outbursts of crying should lessen, but it still just stinks.
Okay, a disclaimer for anyone who actually reads this blog. I am not constantly sad and crying even though you might think I am nothing but a complainer by reading these posts. It's just that when it is really getting me, I write about it, and then it paints a skewed picture of me. Tonight is one of those sad nights, I will try to set myself a goal to write something the next time I am feeling really good. I swear I am not so depressing all the time!!

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