jalama

This is where I will be today.

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Image: pOOfkAt via flickr

Image: pOOfkAt via flickr

Well, this is just weird.

In the mail today was a card addressed to my mother. Inside, a “Get Well” card signed by a bunch of people saying various things like:

My prayers and thoughts are with you.

Our prayers are with you for your health and healing.

Both my brother & I read the card thinking maybe it was a sympathy card for us, but it’s clear that it is a “Get Well” card. The handwritten notes are about getting well, wishing her good health, and they’re all in the present tense. I even checked the post-mark to make sure the post office hadn’t somehow screwed up and sent this late. But still, that wouldn’t make sense. She wasn’t sick before she died. It was sudden & unexpected. (more…)

Image: nomenombres via flickr

Image: nomenombres via flickr

Today marks 1 week until the first anniversary of my mother’s death.

I’m facing it with a bit of dread, but also openness to wherever my emotions take me. I realize I can’t fight what is coming, or what already is. I’d rather let myself go with the flow. Neither bottling up nor putting off what is to come is going to make it any easier.

The last couple of days have been a bit rough. At first I just thought it was because of other life drama, but then I realized I was reacting more emotionally to situations that at any other time I would have let slide. So, I’ve just given myself permission to overreact right now. Most of the people around me know what is going on and have thankfully forgiven me and my mood. (more…)

Image: Caros Lines via Flickr

Image: Caro's Lines via Flickr

10 months. Yes, it’s getting easier. The day passed with no tears & only a tad bit of mopiness. Still, while I’ve lost count of the number of weeks, I’m still hyper aware of this date, & will probably be so for some time to come. All I know is that 10 months feels like 10 days and 10 years  in the same instant. It’s odd how time progresses when it comes to death.

For now, 10 months means 2 months to 1-year. I choose not to consciously think about coming to that mark. I’ll ignore it as long as possible.