Last night I found the envelope of pictures from my mom’s funeral that I took to London with me; for some reason I opened it and started looking at them. I thought that I just needed to do it; the reality is that I should probably do it more often. It’s strange, I can’t really remember her face and it feels like she’s been gone for an eternity – to the point that it feels like she was never here to begin with, which I really can’t explain at all. Maybe it’s because it feels like she doesn’t exist anymore, maybe it’s because my brain doesn’t want to remember her face because that will make it harder, I don’t know. But looking at those pictures, some from my wedding, some from my baby shower and from the hospital when Emily was born, made me remember her face and made it harder to feel like I was “okay” (for lack of a better word). Daily, I struggle with keeping the grief at bay. Some days it’s not too hard, as long as I don’t think about her. Some days it’s next to impossible to keep it away. And the images I have in my head, those with her in them, are fuzzy. I can’t really see her face and it’s hard for me to hear her voice in my head, too. She still had the Brooklyn accent as if she had just moved out of the state; we’ve been in Jersey since I was an infant so her and my Dad’s voices are pretty distinct to me. I can’t really see or hear her and I don’t really get why.
I’m afraid that, when I do finally see her face in my head that it will be too much and I’ll cry and cry and I won’t be able to stop. Days like that scare the crap out of me.
Recently I’ve been debating, toying with the idea of seeing a psychic. I know, a large part of me thinks that whole thing is a bunch of crap and none of it is real. But, there is a small part of me that wonders if I could actually get something from it and that’s the part of me that is grasping at straws. Just to know that she was okay, that she could see us and that she’s with us would be so wonderful and helpful for me to know. I’ve been waiting and looking for signs from her and still I’ve gotten nothing. Friday it will be three months, which I can’t believe is possible because that sounds like such a long time, and I still haven’t gotten any inkling that she’s here which is hard. Very hard. It’s hard to one day have a mom and then suddenly within days feel like she’s just gone. I felt it in the hospital and I still feel it now. I felt stupid sitting next to her bed, talking to her, because I was talking to a body that was empty. She left long before everything got turned off and her body stopped working. She was responsive for one day after being placed on the machines, which I think was her opportunity to communicate with us and let us know that she was still in there. But as soon as she was unresponsive, which was less than 48 hours later, she was gone. It all went so fast – 19 days after we found out what was possibly wrong, she was gone. 9 days after she was admitted into the hospital she was gone. I just wish I knew that she was okay and in a safe place and not trapped in that hospital because she doesn’t understand that she died and she’s wandering the halls….oh I watch too many ghost hunting shows, I really do.
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