Since my Mom died the days seem to pass in a blurry haze. I was kept busy at first with many things to take care of which didn’t leave too much time for thinking. Upon arrival home the busyness of her immediate death dropped off to nothing, leaving me more time to think than I’d like. There were still phone calls to make to friends (mine) which left me feeling weepy and drained. Yesterday I made the last hard phone call to a friend of my Mom’s that lives in Florida. I still have thank you notes to write but can’t quite rouse myself to doing that just yet. I plod through the days with no direction.

Since I was named executor of her will, all her mail is now forwarded to me. Every day there is a reminder in the mail box waiting for me. Yesterday it was a birthday card for her.

I try, I really do, not to let myself wallow in grief. But the losses just seem to keep coming. Just when I think it’s all going to be okay again, something else intervenes. Life, I guess. Swimming usually helps but it’s been rainy, grey, and very chilly here this week with temps in the low 60s. The pool does not tempt in this kind of weather. Walking and taking photos helps too, but again, not the weather for taking photos. I did, however, manage to go out this morning after our drenching rain of yesterday for the photos in this entry. I didn’t start out with a theme of tears in mind, it just ended up that way. Camera = therapy.

I can’t stop my mind from playing over the last day of her life in my memory. She hadn’t been feeling well with a cold over the past few days and was kind of up and down with feeling worse, then better. I kept telling her to go to the doctor. Finally, on that last morning I knew she was really sick ( I was thinking flu) so I made her a doctor’s appointment and found the daughter of one of her friends to take her that afternoon.

Two hours later I called to check in on her. I was the one that listened to the phone ringing. And ringing. And ringing; with no answer. I had the worst feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I was the one who called her friend and insisted someone go over and check on her. I was the one who got the phone call telling me that they had found her on the kitchen floor. I can’t get it out of my head. I don’t know if the cold/flu had anything to do with her heart attack or not. No matter, she’s gone. It’s just so hard to believe.

She would not have wanted me to waste precious moments in life by spending them grieving for her. I know that. I used this poem that I found on fellow blogger Lettuce’s blog at my Mom’s gathering, and it fit perfectly.

You can shed tears that she is gone
or you can smile because she has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that she’ll come back
or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left.
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her
or you can be full of love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her and only that she’s gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back
Or you can do what she’d want; smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
(poem by David Harkins)

So, with that in mind I will find a way through this, bolstered by my memories of her and what a wonderful person she was. And by remembering how much she loved me. And I her. I will try not to dwell; but I certainly won’t forget.

I’m hanging on ...

Although the people are different, and the circumstances are different. I can understand how you feel.
Three years ago this month I lost my brother to cancer. I had been out on strike from a job I loved for 5 months. In the following months one of my cats died, as well my beloved dog. Then my Dad had a massive stroke. Then so very suddenly, my young dog Holly died.
Dad is recovering although now lives in a nursing home.
Grief seemed to overwhelm me. Still does.

There is a song about grief that seems to help me when I’m sad, even though it is sad song.

It is written by Gordie Sampson, sung by Alison Krauss and it is on the Natalie MacMaster CD ‘In My Hands’
The lyrics are here.
http://www.nataliemacmaster.com/recordings/lyrics.htm#DECEMBER

This is the only clip of the song I could find. Ignore the skaters.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L1SJna6f9OQ

Hold on to your memories. It takes time, as much time as you need.

Reading your words today brought back those same feelings I had when I lost my mom.  Expecially the part about going over her last day.  I still do that.  It was one of the hardest things I have had to go thru. Someone told me. Take your time.  Don’t rush.  I also found that it helps knowing people care about you.  You touch people with your blog.  I know you make my day a little brighter with reports of bugs, flowers, and bears…your photos too.  So take care…take your time. Its ok.

What a lovely poem.
Thinking of you and Rick.
Cat

Lynne - what a lovely post, hang on, keep reaching and one day you too will be able to smile as you go on.  ((( hugs )))

That was a wonderful post, the pictures really seem to mirror what you seem to be feeling right now. You are very brave, and I don’t envy what you are going through. It seems that you have a good outlook though, but remember that only time heals the wounds. Take care of yourself and know that you have friends to surround you. HUGS!!

hang on lynne, and give yourself time.  And sometimes it might be important to dwell and wallow…

lovely pictures, i’m glad you are finding therapies.

hugs.

xx

You are amazing. You’re more than hanging on, you’re an inspiration. Thank you for the kind words about my socks, by the way…

Paula: Thanks for sharing your own grief with me. It helps to know that other people also can have a string of bad things happening.

Debra: Such kind words certainly made my day brighter!

Cat: thanks

Maggie: thank you; nice to see you here.

Krista: No, I am not brave, just no choice.

Lettuce: Thanks and you know exactly what I am going through. We’ll remember our Moms on their birthdays coming up soon.

Jane: I feel like I am only just hanging on. Thanks for visiting ...

Lynne your photographs are so beautiful and so very perfect.

Grieving is not a waste of time. Grieving is not “wallowing.” I know it’s uncomfortable, but please let it run its course. When I lost my parents I tried to stuff the feelings away, leading to many years spent in the psychotherapist’s office later on, trying to recover and release my feelings of sadness and loss.

Losing a parent is inconceivably sad. It’s OK to grieve. Please don’t try to stop this important phase.

Sending you much love.

wallow lynne, there’s nothing wrong with that at all. it is healthy and good to get it out, but grieving takes its own strange path.

lots of us are holding your hand

xx

Hi Lynne:  It’s OK to cry - it’s a good thing to feel the pain of loss.  I lost my Dad about 10 years ago and no one cried.  We felt sad for what may have been.  Rejoice in your love for your mom and the feeling of the good kind of sadness.  All will be well soon.  God bless.