I watched and cared for my mom for two years as she endured ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease). In case you are not familiar with it, It is a terrible disease that robs your body of things we mostly take for granted. We grieved along with her as she lost the ability to speak, eat, walk, hold her head up, and participate in the things she used to enjoy. When the disease finally took away her ability to breathe on her own, we watched her pass on to be with Jesus. Selfishly, I did not want to let her be free of this ugly disease, because that meant I had to let her go and start a new grief journey. A journey without the best mom a girl could ask for.
Grief has been an interesting and painful journey that has taken turns I never expected. When I lost my mom, I expected to feel lost and lonely for an extended period of time. I knew the “firsts” were going to be hard. Her first birthday came only one week after her passing. Ouch. It was almost too raw at that time to feel the depth of pain I’ve since endured as the weeks turned to months and now years.
On that first birthday, we went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant she liked and we kept a seat empty for her. It was a somber meal where we had a toast to our beloved mom. We had not yet held her service and the tasks of funeral planning and paperwork kept me busy and preoccupied for the most part. It wasn’t really real until after the funeral and it was time for me to go back home. I left her house knowing that the next time I would ever be back in that house, she would not be there. It turned out I never did go back.
On top of the immense heartache I was experiencing from losing a wonderful and loving mom, my Dad started making a series of hurtful decisions. The first being, purchasing a large motorhome within days of her passing. In fact, he actually left mom’s life celebration to go take care of the purchase. I guess it couldn’t wait (insert a sarcastic, Hmm). He and mom were married for 57 years and one day. Dad obviously wasn’t used to being alone. Within a few weeks, he met a woman at a local restaurant and gave her his number. Within a few months, he decided to travel across the country with her in the new RV. After returning from a long cross-country trip, he informed us that he was selling his home and moving to Arizona. In case you wondered, yes, she was moving with him.
I was now experiencing grief upon grief. Not only had I lost my mommy, now my father was making irrational life-altering decisions. His decisions made it difficult for grief to run its natural course and there was a new grief of losing who my dad was when he was with my mom. Thanksgiving, one of mom’s favorite holidays, rolled around and I just couldn’t bear celebrating it. I didn’t want to be around anyone and chose to “skip” Thanksgiving. My husband, daughter, and I went out to dinner on that day. It was all too heavy to deal with anything more. My heart ached and I missed her so much.
I had never not celebrated Christmas with my mom in all of my 55 years of life. So as December rolled around, I didn’t know how I was going to get through the month, but especially Christmas. Dad decided to come with his RV a few days before Christmas and brought his new “friend”, whom I had not yet met. It was less than six months since my mom had passed and Christmas was not the time to have to face that unwelcome reality. I agreed that he could park and stay next to our house, but I made it clear that I was not going to welcome the friend into my home. It put me in a tailspin and a deep depression. I stayed in bed for days, crying and hurting. She ended up flying out to be with her family for the actual holiday and Dad joined us. It was tough. The reality of Mom not being there was so apparent and heart-wrenching.
I (barely) survived the holidays that first year. It’s been a few years now, and I still have a very hard time celebrating as I once did. Grief does that to you. I’m not sure that will ever change. Mom always did holidays big! I try my best to honor her memory by going big as well. But all the traditions fall flat without her with us.
When my first birthday without her rolled around, just weeks after that first holiday season, I again experienced a new level of grief. I didn’t expect that day to be so hard. I woke up crying and cried for a majority of that day. Mom always made us feel special on our birthdays. The woman that birthed me, that was my biggest cheerleader, my shoulder-to-cry-on, my go-to for all questions, was not there. I wouldn’t be getting a card in the mail, a thoughtful gift, a phone call, a visit, nothing. Not even a homemade cherry chip cake with pink cherry frosting. My mom knew my favorite cake and if she was in town or I was visiting her, she’d be sure to make me one. I miss those cakes, but more than anything I miss the special mom that made me those cakes.
The real icing on the cake that year was the call from my dad. He called to tell me that he was coming through town, with his friend, and asked if they could stay with us for the night. Yes, they would arrive on my birthday, my first birthday without my mom, and he wanted to introduce me to his friend. The worst part of that painful day was that my dad didn’t even know it was my birthday. My grief was compounded not by just losing my mom, but also the loss of the family I came from. My mom was the glue that held us all together. Now fragments are left. Some of those fragments are beautiful, while others are sharp shards that cut deep.
My sister and I have always been close and I’m happy that we’ve grown even closer since Mom passed. We’ve got each other’s backs and we are there for each other 24/7 if need be. I’m so thankful we have each other. We both adored our mom and we both miss her so very much. Our grief journeys are different, as each usually is. But we lean on each other and support one another in all ways possible. Her love and support make grief a little easier to manage.
Regardless if you’ve lost a loved one or not, we all encounter grief in our lives that we must navigate. The loss of a friendship, a job, career, home, spouse through divorce, a pet, whatever it may be, grief is a painful road. I’ve learned that heartbreak can really be painful, physically and mentally. I have also learned that I am not alone in my grief. I’ve come to rely on support from my loved ones. Together we can fight through the pain and grief to find a way to deal with whatever is thrown at us next. I’m blessed to have dear friends that have also lost beloved moms and know this level of pain. They let me wallow in my pain with comforting words as well as laugh about great memories shared.
It’s been two and a half years since Mom has been gone. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss her. It gets easier (I tell myself). I know I will see her again and I can’t wait for that day when I get to hold her. In the meantime I’ve come to a point that I have to move forward. I realize now that I’ve been reeling in my grief and have allowed it to keep me stuck in a rut. I am not the same person I was before watching mom suffer and then losing her. I may never be. But my loved ones deserve the best version of me. I have made a personal commitment to work on myself, on pulling myself out of the pit I’ve fallen into, and propel myself on a “joy journey”. I miss the old me. The one that laughed more, danced more, and wasn’t so bitter. For mom, for me, for my family, I have to choose JOY. The morning has dawned, and God promises joy comes in the morning. Good morning Shannon, now go out there and create and spread joy. And while you’re at it, bake yourself that Cherry Chip Cake with the pink cherry frosting.
YeSSSS!!!! You are WORTHY of ALL the JOY your Mom would want you to experience and share with others. Vulnerably written & Beautifully shared 💝 I want to try a piece of that Cherry Chip Cake too 😘 WooHoooo xoxox ✨🙌🏼