judy-teacher-photo.jpg
Today is difficult. Depressing. Upsetting.

I’m angry. Pissed off. Sad.

Three years ago today I got that terrible phone call and my life has been forever changed as a result. I’m not the first person ever to lose a parent. Nor am I the last. I’m not grieving any more or less than anyone else in my position. I know that.

But I’m still angry. Angry that she’s not here. That I can’t call her. That she can’t give me the motherly advice I so crave since becoming a mother myself. And that she didn’t get the chance to watch her first and only grandchild grow.

She does visit, which I appreciate. But I want more. I want my son to hug his Grandma. To learn from her wisdom. To cuddle in her arms. To love her.

I plan on sitting down and writing a tribute to her – my memories of her – that she’d be proud of. One that is fitting for her. Not this. But I’m not yet ready to do that. I’m not sure when I will be ready. Maybe later tonight. Maybe later this year.

I’m not sure what made me do this, but out of the blue I googled her name. She was very active in her community, so I just thought maybe I’d find something and learn something I didn’t know about her before. I did find something, but not what I expected. I found my brother’s blog and an entry he made shortly following her death. My brother’s a guy that never has much to say. He’s immensely private and never shows emotion. I never saw him cry a tear when my mom died, although I knew he was in tremendous pain. Finding this made me happy today, on this otherwise unhappy day:
—————
Dear Mom,

Knowing how much you loved to surf the ‘net, I’m sure you’ve got a high-speed connection in Heaven. I hope you know what a great mother you were. You were always there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. Your love was always unconditional, and always appreciated.

As much as I will miss you, I know you’re in a better place. The past few months have been very difficult, and I’m just glad you’re no longer suffering.

Love always,
Your Son

Advertisements