It might be hard to believe but I don't like to talk about my mom being gone. I write this blog to help get certain things out of my head; it helps me to process what all of these thoughts and feelings mean. But yesterday I took the plunge and started the conversation. Surprisingly enough, I didn't drown.
I don't really know how the conversation started, I guess that's inconsequential. I told him what it felt like as best I could. It feels like she doesn't exist, that's what I said. Because I don't know how else to say it. I also said that I didn't know how my sister was; we talked about our dace all the time but never how we were doing. My sister is a lot like my dad - doesn't really talk about how she feels unless it's necessary. That conversation prompted one with her which I think was necessary.
When she and I spoke that night, I said things like "I don't know how you feel but this is what's going on with me...." Which got her to tell me how she was. Turns out we're pretty much on the same page.
She stays away from people as much as she can on her bad days and she doesn't know what to say when someone says "so how are you doing". I know there are days when I'm tempted to tell people the truth, but I refrain from that conversation with coworkers and other casual acquaintances. We both even struggle to find the right words for when someone asks about our dad. I don't think anyone really wants to hear the reality of how he is. It hits too close to home. How many of us would turn his story into their own - for their own parent, for themselves. I know that I tend to personalize the stories of others, especially when they're relate able like I think this is. We aren't the first family to go through this. We won't be the last. You just never think you'll be that family that everyone feels sorry for. Being the center of that type of attention isn't something even the biggest attention whore would revel in.
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