it's been a month

Yesterday was one month since the day Mom died.

I'm finding that I have trouble getting in touch with the feeling of having Mom around. I can't viscerally remember the sound of her voice, her smell, her touch. I feel like I've already lost that, and it's only been a month! It seems like I should be able to remember what it felt like to hug her, or just what a room felt like when she was in it. How is it that I already can't hear her voice in my head? I think sometimes of what she would say in certain situations, but I can't hear her saying it. It makes me feel like I wasn't paying close enough attention when she was alive.

I don't want time to pass, because the more time passes, the farther away I am from when she was alive.

We talk about kids not understanding the permanence of death--how could they? I sometimes think I don't understand it, because part of me keeps thinking it's just not possible that I'm going to live the rest of my life without EVER having a conversation with Mom again. She has to come back sometime, right? Well, NO.

Oh, Mom.

Comments

[Natalie]

I stumbled across your blog simply by chance and have spent the last thirty minutes reading through many of your posts. For many of them, I found I had tears running down my face. While I know this is pretty insignificant, I just wanted you to know I'm thinking about you and your family and hoping the grief process isn't too overwhleming.

[Heidi]

Nat: Thank you for your kind words. I've read a lot of your blog since you commented and like it. I think we have a lot in common--little kids, school, marriage, feminism. I'm glad to have you in my neighborhood, and to be in yours.