2 months ago, tomorrow my mom died. It seems like yesterday; it seems like a a year ago; it seems like she's still sitting at home on the couch smoking (and she'd be complaining about donald trump for sure). And I am learning about this is that there are a lot of things that people don't tell you. I mean when you are pregnant or have a new baby, women come out of the woodwork to give their advice and tell you how you should deal with this or that. They tell you what you're going to feel, experience, see, smell, do, etc. And you are totally wishing that everyone would just go away....until you need them. But with this, it's different. It is some secret private club that no one really talks about - or maybe I just wasn't listening. Or maybe grief is a much more private thing, I don't know. But ever since I went for a mammogram and discovered that they have these little metal nipple guards that go on the weirdly placed nipple for breasticles I realized that there is nothing in the world that is unique to me alone. And that is comforting for the most part (though sometimes a little sad to think that really we are all ... no on special in the world...settle for somewhat special in my small locale). So, here, my future readers (probably my boys when I have passed away), is a message for you. Last night was the first big thing that my mama missed. As Isaiah had been practicing for months, I just never connected that performance night and the fact that mama was gone. She has long been the one for whom I have recorded and photographed my life. And yesterday and last night, she was gone and I wanted so much for her to see Isaiah. Insert platitude about how she saw him from whatever space she is in right now - I hesitate to say it's heaven because well there is an indoctrination of religious beliefs there and I don't really do that. And I know that her spirit was there because I was carrying her with me all day. But as always there is not a thing I would not have given for her to have laughed out loud at his performance and to have said she as proud of him (and then me by default because really, I get to take some credit for who he is). And there you have, this was the first big thing that mama missed which makes me miss her. There is a whole other mess of crap to write about when it comes to these life lessons... And really, though I have been writing in a journal occasionally, you really forget how much it annoys a body to write with your hand of all things after years of keyboarding.
