I feel like I’ve been sitting on the event horizon of my personal black hole. This has happened to me before and last time, I was past the point of no return without realizing it was happening. That was a very, very bad year. I lost my father and two of my dogs in six months. I stopped leaving my house because both my dogs were lost when I went out. They were old, but it still got to me on some level that it was my fault for not being with them.
My dad had, had a stroke years before, and he was not doing well. Losing him was not a surprise but it still got to me. I wish I could say it was because of good things. I wasn’t ready for those. Mostly I felt cheated that I never got to tell him how angry I was at him while he was still mentally able to understand the rage I’d been sucking up for decades. He made some very selfish choices that severely changed the course of my life.
In case you didn’t know, I lost my mom 10 days before Christmas, and it’s still hitting me hard. This isn’t a case of not realizing how important someone was in my life when they are gone. I know she was important. We talked almost every day on various instant messengers over the years, and we’d call each other while sitting in waiting rooms or parking lots. I’d outgrown her being my anchor, but she was a major part of my foundation.
Our relationship was far from perfect. I loved her flaws and all, and she loved me. There were some dark spots along the way, but I haven’t spent a single moment wishing I’d talked to her about the things that hurt. There was no reason to with her or my father. Neither could change the past and dwelling on slights by people who are dead is no way to live your life. The past is the past. Water under the bridge. Whore at the river…Let it go.
Now I talk a good game about that, but I’m not a very forgiving person. My dad’s been gone 5 years (10 days after Christmas for him), and I was angry with him for years before he was gone and years after. It did neither of us any good. Mom and I vented about some of that along the way, but I finally let go of the mad a year or so ago. I have better things to do with my life.
So I wasn’t mad at my mom. She wasn’t perfect. Gods know I’m not. I loved her. I still do. But every now and then, I wake up in the morning and remember that she’s not going to be the first person I talk to. We always knew where each other was even though I live 1000 miles away. I guess in a way she was still an anchor, after all.
She taught me how to be strong. But I had to learn to be kind on my own. I still need to work on that from time to time, but I’d like to think I’m OK at it.
I miss you Mom.