Thursday, February 23, 2012

Feblueary

Sometimes February feels like the longest month, even though it's the shortest. My mom passed away in February, nine years tomorrow, and my grandpa passed away last February. I guess my dad and I look at it as the "worst" month, so maybe it's better to have all of your heartache bunched together. As the end of January approaches every year, February looms over me like a dark cloud. I pray that in those 28/29 days, nothing bad happens. Each minute, hour, day, seems so long.....
I don't want to live in fear, especially for a whole month, and I know God's timing sending my mom into heaven was predetermined, but it is a part of my life, I didn't realize I would have to deal with so young.
Some years affect me more than others, but I know that small piece of me that was lost on February 24, 2003, will never come back.
On a more positive note, this year I tried to do something each day to remember my mom.... some of these things included:
1. Eating Twizzlers
2. Playing the Daily Number
3. Praying
4. Sending a card to a friend
5. Buying an even number of fruit/veggies (Thanks for that small OCD component mom)
6. Living in the moment

I'll stop at 6 because that was her favorite number. Inevitably, I DO a lot of these things anyways, because I am a part of her. Dealing with a loss of this magnitude has changed me as a person. There is no way to come out of something like this the same as before it happened.
I don't know what my relationship with my dad would be like if my mom was still alive. We were very jokey, sporty, happy go lucky before, but now, he is my mom and dad and has been both roles for almost a decade. If I'm stressed, PMS-ing, breastfeeding, worried, sad, happy, he has to hear it all, and he is a great listening ear for me. Where I have married, had a baby, he is still in the house. He can visualize her cooking in the kitchen, laying on the couch, walking up the stairs. I know part of the reason he isn't selling is because that is one more huge door that would be closed on our memories that continue to fade.
I think that is one of the hardest parts, the fading memories. As time passes, it's harder to picture her in my mind, hear her voice, and remember. There have been times when I have frantically typed or written things I've remembered about her, with the hope of triggering more and more. These instances have dissipated over the years.
I know this has made me a stronger person, and I know God doesn't give you more than you can handle. I know other people where if this happened to them, they would be broken forever, wouldn't have bounced back and kept on living. Each day and each year, I celebrate my mom, and now I know how much she loved me, as I get to hold my sweet child everyday. :)












 

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