Missing mom is weird. It’s been three weeks since we last spoke. The last time we’d ever speak in this life. I keep catching myself going “I’m gonna show this to mom” or “I haven’t called mom yet!” or getting up late and thinking “moms gonna rag me for sleeping so late and being late to work.” I’m making mental notes about things I’ll tell her or talk to her about when we next talk. I miss that connection and that outlet.
But I’m not broken. I’d never think I would handle her death this well. I certainly didn’t expect it. We were going to build mom an addition to our house. I had it completely planned out and drawn up in sketches here or there. We’d discussed it. She wanted one of those step in tubs. She’d have her own kitchenette. It was going to mirror the dining room bay windows size and shape by the pool. Creating a kind of courtyard. She’d have her own home entrance and foyer on the side of the house. And when we built it making a hallway through the storage room, I’d build in a closet for all that shit in the downstairs hall. And there would be a wooden deck between the back doors. I’d imagined I’d find her there a lot in the morning having coffee and tending her plants.
I miss her and I weep. But it doesn’t feel like a massive Greek Tragedy that I think it should feel like. The way it seems to be for the rest of my family. They can’t talk about her without crying. Can’t look at photos of her. I like the memories the photos hold. I don’t mind looking though them. She always looked happy. It makes me remember the trips and who took that photo. I just ordered a 20×30 print of her sitting in a window looking out over the Fox Theater in Atlanta when I took her to see Third Days final concert tour. I had planned to have her sign it or something. But she won’t be here to sign it. However, I will still have it hanging by my side of the bed. Mom forever looking happily out the window.
My family won’t even let me post the memorial date and time. They’re “too upset” and “not ready.” I don’t understand. We’ve planned the memorial. We’re having it, why is it weird to tell people when it is? I completely don’t get it. K said that maybe I’m just more in touch with my feelings and they’re not so they can’t look past themselves right now. I can see that being true. But shouldn’t I be more broken? They’re all fucking puddles of tears over there. Am I too medicated, perhaps? Too many antidepressants? Do I WANT to be more sad? Should I be? I just don’t know.
I’ll never give her that house of her own. We’ll never sit on the tanning ledge together again. I imagine opening the pool this year with her gone will be a very difficult thing for me. She loved my pool so much. She’ll never sign the window portrait for me. I can’t take her on a trip to a place she’s never been. Or even a trip to a place she has been. What will Florida be like without mom? How will it be without her being awake before everyone having coffee on the balcony? That’s just weird. Should we even go? Mom was the one who worshipped the Florida trip.
Yet I don’t feel like there are loose threads. I don’t feel the carpet unraveling beneath me. She had a better life than I’d even realized. She touched so many people. She knew I adored her and would do whatever I could for her. I know she adored me and would do anything for me.
I only had three touch stones. Mr C, Mom, and my cat. Mom was the strongest bond and now it’s lost. And the cats in kidney failure. And Mr C has his games.
I keep thinking of when I worked on tanks. “Always have three points of contact with the tank.” Your ass, your hands, your feet, your stomach – just have at least 3 places of contact with your body and the tank at all times. Don’t fall and break your ass on the company’s dime. No standing willy nilly on the tanks – put your ass down.
I had three points of contact with the Earth, life, whatever you want to call it. And now one’s gone and one’s going. Will I fall? I’m certainly not following directions. I’ve never had good balance. What will happen to me? What will happen when I’m balancing on one foot and that foot has a bad day and just wants to play his games and be left alone? Do I just go play Animal Crossing? I get on every night to get my money tree and see if that bitch owl shows up. But I’ve got over 6 million bells in the bank and she never gives me anything good anyway. Fucking owl.
