Skip to main content

4 Years Ago




On this day 4 years ago I found my mom dead in her bed. Over the years I have expressed what that moment felt like and still 4 years later there are no words to adequately put to words what that moment was like. I am not sure how it has been 4 years already and I miss her just as much now as I did the day I found her. The grief has shifted and I am able to carry it differently but I still miss her.

4 years ago I was angry with her. Alcoholism is a hard disease to manage when it has consumed one of the most important people in your life. I lost my mom before she died. I lost the mom I knew she was deep inside that dark hell she lived in. I couldn’t save her. It has taken a long time for me to process her death and her life. I couldn’t save her because I was her daughter and she needed to be able to save herself. But I tried my hardest to save her, or I thought I tried my hardest. I still feel I am not able to forgive myself for walking away from her a few days before she died. Walking away angry. Imaging those last days of her life can still bring me to my knees and I don’t think of those days often.

My mom was so loving and compassionate. Her smile and laugh were contagious. My mom raised 2 children who turned out to be amazing human beings. My mom was a fighter. My mom loved deeply and her children/grandchildren were her life. My mom was beautiful, smart, caring, adventurous, giving, vivacious and so many other things that I wish I embraced when she were alive.

I miss her calls, I miss her voice, I miss her presence on this earth but I also know that she is guiding me along the way. Working with Mckenna to ensure that I follow the right path. I would give anything to have one more conversation, phone call, visit with her but that is not possible anymore. I wish she was here because life can be lonely without the ones you love. 4 years seems impossible.


I love and miss you mom with all of my heart and soul. 






Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Graduation, Weeping Willows and Love

I have often thought about the analogy of trees and wind. Trees need to be flexible when the winds blow or they would break and not survive the storm. Rigid, stubborn trees trying hard to go against the wind grow tired, weary and broken. Fluid and flexible trees go with the flow of the wind, bending and bouncing back after a storm.  When I began my journey of becoming a social worker I was the stubborn rigid tree trying hard to control everything around me falling apart in the process. This became more of a challenge than allowing the wind to do what it does and go with whatever direction it goes. It was exhausting. I would come unhinged quickly, shut down and not stay with my emotions. Friends have told me that they saw it happen right before their eyes. 2 years ago I started the MSW program. I was fragile, unstable, rigid, shut down, broken and lost. I never thought the day would come for me to get my Master’s. Graduation felt like a million years away. Every class...
Post a Comment
Read more

I Would Have a 7 Year old...Sigh

I would have a 7 year old, a 7 year old!! Sometimes that thought fills my heart with sadness. How could she be dead? How could my baby girl be dead? I watched a short video of her last night and it’s hard to believe that she was mine. It’s hard to believe that I gave birth to this amazing, beautiful, curious, old soul. I have often said I can’t imagine my life without Mckenna. I live everyday without her. I still cannot visualize never having her, never knowing her, never holding her, kissing her, loving her, as my life would not be the same without her ever existing. I may not have made the best decision staying with my ex husband back when I knew he cheated, however, if I had left him then I would have never had her. That is not a thought I can even begin to imagine. I would make the same choice if I had to live it again because she was worth the pain I went through all those years.  I miss my daughter, I miss being her mom, I miss my life as a her mom, she was my pa...
Post a Comment
Read more

Closing the Book of my Childhood...

Growing up I went to my Nana and Papa's house frequently. She would keep us weeks at a time in the summers. Nana was for a grandmother but also didn't take any back talk or attitude. When I was 10 years old, I moved in with Nana and Papa. My room was downstairs, without a door and had the washer and dryer in the room. Eventually they put on saloon like doors for a little privacy. I lived there until I turned 13. Big years living with your grandparents. Vital years really, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I always felt connected to my Nana. We were a lot a like. I still wonder what she would think of me now and how I turned out. I would help around the property, help plant cactus (and laugh hysterically together after because we were so sweaty and gross), helped feed the animals, water the trees, water the plants, ride my bike all the time. I actually played out doors every day. Sometimes I was allowed to eat ice cream for dinner when no one wanted to c...
6 comments
Read more