For the record, I should be doing homework. But this felt more important.
It’s been 9 months and 1 day. How is that possible? I’ve put one foot in front of the other for 9 months and 1 day after the loss of my mom. I can talk about how much I miss her (because I do) or I can talk about how lost I’ve felt, how bottom of the barrel I’ve been… But those aren’t positive perspectives and they are rather selfish. But, they are a part of my story, even if they aren't sunny. I can talk about how I’ve grown. How I feel like I’ve aged. I mean, I must be at least 432 years old by now. To watch a soul; a beautiful, kind, and hurtingsoul flutter between heaven and earth like a butterfly, fundamentally changes a person. Losing a parent changes every single molecule in your body. It’s changed my view of the world. The things I tell my children. It’s changed my approach at work and with my own health. I’ve mentioned before that my children have prayed for healing for their nana for years. At the moment of my mom’s ascent into heaven, she was healed. For those of us left without her; we were faced with an unknown. In death, my family learned forgiveness. And I want to be clear- forgiveness does not take away pain, loss or hurt. It does, however, bring togetherness. And togetherness can minimize the feelings of pain, loss and hurt. It can knit together a blanket that you never even knew you needed.
A woman can grow a sweet, innocent life in the safety of her uterus in 9 months. What have I been up to in that time? It feels like hell and back. I’ve lost, gained, and lost 10 pounds. I’ve started and stopped medicine for severe and uncontrolled anxiety. I can immediately bring up the raw, angry, confused, and overwhelmed feelings of the month of October, November and December. I’ve dealt with insomnia. I can remember sunny days that made me cry because I hurt. I can remember rainy days that made me cry because I hurt. Beautiful Midwest sunsets? Hurt. Songs on the radio? Hurt. Bonfires and time with friends? Hurt. The frustrating days when it feels like nothing but a sheer veil separates me from a hug and a gentle kiss from my mama.... HURT! It’s such a juxtaposition to feel hurt and peace at the same time. My mom and I did not always have an easy relationship, but I know no matter what, she would have dropped everything and been there for me. The hurt comes from not having more time and not being able to say everything I wanted to say even though I knew what was coming. The hurt comes for my kids and my sisters. And my niece and nephews. My granny. And my dad…. The peace comes from knowing that the presence of the Lord is with me at all times. Peace comes from knowing that I have a good, good Father. It comes from knowing that the same power that rose Jesus from the grave is the power that took my sweet mama from this earth. The peace comes from the family gatherings that we have had since November. It's knowing that He loves me anyway. The peace comes from that knitted blanket that I didn’t even know I needed.
Falling asleep at night is still so tough because I go back to that night. The heavy air. The tears. The fear. I grasp onto the Lord and pray like crazy when I cannot get my brain to walk around the block—to run from that night. It just keeps reappearing. I can see a sliver of the light in that night. I can see the Lord welcoming my mom with open arms, but it’s fleeting. It’s still mostly heavy with the tears and the fear. Hence, the insomnia.
18 months ago, if someone would have asked me why I sporadically and impulsively started working towards my bachelor’s degree I would have said “I don’t know.” I have an amazing job where I’m blessed to help those in need. So, why, out of nowhere did I get the idea to go back to school? I didn’t know at the time… I can now see the opening in the road, and I can say that the good Lord ordered my path. I feel like my time is nearing to step away from the field of occupational therapy and enter the field of management/leadership. I want to pursue a master’s in organizational leadership, and I want to utilize my experience, my faith, and my education to lead. I am not a person who seeks attention in a crowd. I’m a person who works hard but wants to stay blended in. I’m feeling an urgency to break out and share what I have to offer with others. I want to set an example for my children. I want my husband (and my dad) to be proud of me (and regardless of her absence on this earth, I want my mom to be proud, too). I want to make the most of my time because I may very well only have 60 years and 40 days here. I want to be an example of God’s love and redemption.
I have gotten 2 tattoos since my mom died. One is a “greater than” symbol. This is to remind me that Forgiveness > bitterness. Faith > fear. Love > anger. HE is greater than every fear, tear, worry, anxiety, and stress I may have. I also got the word ‘always’ written in my mom’s handwriting. This is to remind me that she is always with me. That love and kindness is always the answer. That God is always beside me, with me, in my heart, and carrying me. That He is always laying the bricks on my path. I am always saved. Always forgiven. Always loved. No matter how angry, frustrated, confused, overwhelmed, lost and lonely I may feel.
Last summer (2018), I took a required course called “spirituality in death and dying” and the timing could only be God’s and I still value the information I learned in that course. Right now, I’m in a class called “spirituality in healthcare.” It comes at a time when I still haven’t fully acknowledged all of my emotions in regard to my mom’s death. And at a time when work is so incredibly stressful that I fully need a punch-in-the-face reminder of why I do what I do. Whatever the future may hold- right now- I’m a direct patient care provider and I need to live up to that calling.
What is the point of this post? To update that 4 ½ people that read it. Or maybe just a way for me to release the stream of consciousness that has been building up. To say that I stand here in victory- during the storm.-
Maybe it’s just for me to say hallelujah. Because I was blessed enough to have an angel in the shape of my mom...
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