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 ...