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| This was my Mom. The smile that lit up the room! |
One
day, well into my Mom’s battle with Cancer, we lay snuggling on her bed in her bedroom at
home. We were watching Sally Field in "Norma Rae", one of our favorite films.
We
watched in silence, and suddenly I found myself looking at my mother, and not
the movie. I studied the lines around her eyes, that one eyebrow that wasn’t
perfect because she picked at it with tweezers all the time. Her freckles stood
out more than usual, and I chalked it up to the soft light coming in through
the window. She was so beautiful.
I looked at her, and softly said “I’m not
done with you yet.” She
turned to look at me, smiled sadly, and said “I’m not done with you yet either.”
And then we cried. We wept, holding each other, afraid to let go. We fell asleep hugging each other, tears still wet on our faces.
I
am certain that I will never be done with her, nor she with me, and that
wherever she is, we will find each other again one day.
She’s
with me in everything I do. When I feel the sunshine warming my face, I imagine
it’s her. When I’m cooking something new and it turns out amazing, I feel like
she had something to do with it. And when I face uncertainty or life’s
stresses, I know that she is why I’m strong willed, always pushing forward.
As
I approach the 7 year anniversary of my Mom’s death, I realize that my pain isn’t
as sharp. I still miss her and I still cry about my loss when I need her most,
but I have found a peaceful place I didn’t think existed.
Loss and grief are a long and dark
tunnel. It’s so hard to believe there is a light at the end of it, but I
promise you there is. Now that I’m standing at the end of the tunnel, standing
in the light, I want to share that today’s post will be my last in Fish Tacos +
Monarch Butterflies.
When
I started this blog about 3 years ago, it was a tool of sorts. I needed a place
to channel my hurt, my loss, and my stories about my Mom. I felt like I wasn’t
done knowing her, and typing out those stories made me feel a little less
empty. As though sharing my experiences made them new to me again, so that I
could feel those feelings once more, both good and bad.
Although
this blog is complete in its content, the messages within remain ever present.
Sometimes we lose the people we love most. Moving forward doesn’t mean we’ve
forgotten them: It just means we are healing.
If
you’ve read all or even one post in this blog, I want to say thank you. Thank
you for reading/sharing my thoughts and feelings, telling me about your own thoughts and
experiences in emails, Twitter and Facebook messages. With you, the healing
process was that much more meaningful.
“To those of you reading this who
have suffered loss and been judged for how you chose/are choosing to get
through your grief: Please never stop sharing. Your stories are not meant to be
locked away. You can’t heal if you hide.”
Thank you for walking this path with me.
Love,
Amy
