The anniversary of mom's passing is upon me. August 14, 2018. It doesn’t seem like it’s been two years since she’s been gone. Sometimes I forget and just feel like she’s home in her bed like she was almost continuously for her last two - three years.
But most of the time I’m just so keenly aware of her presence; more than when she was alive. I think about her almost everyday now.
Unfortunately, I am often also reminded as I become aware of my own behavior and reactions degrading into what feels good in the moment of the many attributes of her behavior and reactions that always bothered me and put me off the most .
She is my constant mirror that I look in almost everyday. She is a part of me and in me in ways I can’t explain.
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For the first few of weeks after returning home from Montana, I felt like I was just winging it through my days with little to no plan.
But the unorganized chaos began to feel out of control at a time when the whole world seems to be getting out of control. I could feel the mood-spiral coming and going.
I've begun making very detailed lists and schedules again.
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When I get dressed up now, especially for church, I rummage through my mom's oversized costume jewelry box that I inherited. It's full of plastic and colorful baubles, as well as a few pieces of "real" jewelry, items dad gave her for birthdays, anniversaries, or Christmas gifts. Some of the real jewelry she probably picked out herself and some things he picked out for her.
Her wedding ring. Her gold necklace with the little gold heart.
Week after week when she felt good, she shined. Not only because of her physical beauty, but also her sense of style which included an overt adornment with accessories.
However, beginning as a teen in protest of not wanting to be like her and thinking her shallow in how much importance she put on these gaudy decorations along with her beauty, I convinced myself to believe less was more and thought myself superior to her because I felt I knew better how to edit my attire.
I've changed.
I now purposely wear long sparkly necklaces or colorful dangly earrings that I've dug out of the jewelry box. Big, in-your-face, costume jewelry has been something I’ve avoided since the 80s, but now I find myself decorating my outfits with it more and more. Not because I feel prettier with it on (in fact I feel very self-conscious), but because I want to remember her in her best light.
I wear costume jewelry to pay homage to her memory. It reminds me of her happier days; therefore, our happier days.
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I’ve been struggling with the decision I made to take Austin out of his special needs school. Last week, I drove the 2 hours over and back to pick up his stander which we usually leave at the school year round since our travels in the summer preclude it’s use anyway.
It was the last act of separation from a school he attended since he turned 3. My heart is both grieving the end and loss as well as being elated by the thought of something new and not having to deal with the very early mornings, long bus transport, and far away distance from home if an emergency comes up.
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My mother-in-law has this enviable relationship with her only daughter. They seem like best friends. They appear to have mutual respect and adoration for one another.
It's beyond comprehension to me, yet I yearn now to have had that relationship with my mom.
Adoration. Why didn't I adore her? She deserved respect and adoration. She was my mother, for God's sake! Maybe if I had adored her, she would still be here.
But it was never meant to be. I wouldn't allow it. And now the missed opportunity hurts like hell.
