I knew the date, but the significance of it didn't hit me until tonight. My reaction was to say SOB out loud. And you know I don't swear much. You died today. How many years has it been? You died in 1981. I almost forgot. I almost made it though the day. But I didn't. I remembered. SOB! For a second a few memoirs of the night you died swept in, and I began to tear up. Another year has gone by without my mother, and best friend.
Sometimes I wonder how my life would have changed if you were still in it. I probably would have gone on to more college. Would I have been open about my sexuality with you? Would I have suppressed it for a longer time? I don't know how my life would have changed, but I bet it would have changed mostly for the better.
Yes, it gets easier with time. Most days I don't even think of you. Then other days I really wish you were still here on earth. I've come to realize that I've suppressed some of the memoirs I've had of you. Subconsciously, I've taken some of the best memories and locked them deep in my mind. Somehow I know that. I would not be as sane as I am if I remembered you well, and knew that I'd never see you again on earth. Seems like a sick, cruel, joke. So I remember your 10 year fight with cancer. I remember several surgeries, several bouts of chemo, and radiation therapy. Told in the hospital room to be careful not to knock over the glass bottle and brake it because you just had part of your lung removed, and your lung would collapse if I got clumsy. I felt your venerability. I remember you walking with the quad-cane, then wheel chair, then bedridden with a catheter. Paralyzed from the waist down by that tumor on your spine. That last month that you could hardly eat a thing except for custard that the neighbor made. Refusing food. And that night that you died. And all through it, you tried to remain positive, enjoy your loved ones, believing God would heal you. I remember mostly the bad times because It would hurt to much to have a clear memory of the good times.
When you died a part of me died with you. I can't name the part of me that died, but it was something good, vital that is now gone. Maybe forever. So be it! Maybe in heaven it's not so easy for you to be without your only child. Maybe you needed that piece of me. That's fine! You keep it mom. When we are reunited it will all workout, and be clear.
Your loving daughter forever...
"Those who are dead are not dead They're just living my head"
Comments is now closed. I have to move on. Thank you for caring!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008