Mother

 I know why you had to go. I know why, but it doesn't make it easier. 

Mom, we haven't always had the easiest relationship, and yet I am feeling lost without you. You were always there, even when I was difficult, even when I had to do things my own way, you were there to watch it all happen and tell me I told you so when it didn't quite work out. You were there in the middle of the night when I needed someone to get me, and you were there to defend me and my kids when people were cruel. You were the shopper of inappropriate gifts for the kids and relished it when they opened them and watched my face in absolute horror when I realized the havoc the toy would reap on my household... you also loved it when I brought those toys to grandma's house and turned the tables. I was the child that you didn't always understand but loved anyway. I can't seem to find the words to say what I want right now and am finding even that difficult. I have always been able to find my words in any situation and this one has left me speechless. 

Mommy, As you left on Monday I was shaken. I felt like I was 6 begging you not to go on a trip and there was no reassurance from you that you would be back one day. It was just that you were gone. Every morning I come down the stairs and you are not here, not here to give me a smile or a bouquet of fingers. I did not know what to do with myself, and when our nurse came back to remove all of the equipment I got a view that you were really and truly gone. blood pooling, skin cooling it all just seemed nightmarish and horrid. You escaped your body and were released into the wild expanse and I am happy for you, but the selfish part of me wants my mom back. I want to be able to hug you and tell you I love you. I did just that before you passed. I told you silly stories and things that made us smile. I hugged you and told you I loved you and thanked you for being my mom. I kept saying I love you and tell you it was okay, half expecting to hear it back and then you passed... you were gone. My heart shattered. you left a hole. I cannot seem to fill it because it is a you-shaped hole and you were uniquely designed and shaped. No one can fit that for us. 

I look at that corner and am haunted by the fact that you were there... and now no more. It is so quick the change. I have been focusing on the things I can do... today I went to the funeral home to pick up documents and they handed you to us. Your remains, in your urn. Carly and I broke at the sight. We also took liberties to drive you through town, like your own personal parade... Seems kind of fucked up that you have been reduced to the contents of a pretty vase and I am broken. We are broken. We set you on the mantel next to the fire (your happy place was anywhere warm) and I cannot seem to stop looking there. I have also been thinking about when you passed. You looked up and off to the side like you were looking at something, I wonder what you were seeing at that time. I hope that you heard us. I hate that you are gone, I hate that you are not here... 64 is way too young. How is this a thing? how?

Today I came back to my home in Harrowsmith and it all felt too real. Like leaving the homestead meant that it was over. That sitting shiva was over. Back to reality... and to be honest, reality without you being a phone call away seems like utter bullshit. I called to talk to dad and your voice was what I received on the voicemail... it was at once wonderful and painful. I want you to tell me I am being ridiculous, to say "Linds, what in the hell are you doing" I want to see that crosseyed look you give me when you think I am being ridiculous and to know that I am never going to see that again hurts more than I can put into words. I told the kids today and Grayson, the child I thought would be okay, was gutted. Sterling was okay, he was sad but couldn't put it into words... Her boys. Sophia was told on Monday and drew a picture for grandma... She drew her eye. That vibrant gold and I gave her in return a ring that I gave grandma years ago. The kids miss you, mom. I miss you, mom. 

How the fuck am I supposed to do this without all of your wisdom and sarcasm? How the fuck am I supposed to carry on? How do I hold us together? The smallest things are hitting me like a transport truck, and believe that I know what that is like... 30 transport trucks a day and I am not sleeping on my own... my cousin and her "pammies" or "Trazadone" she always comes prepared... I want to call you... I want you to tell me to cut this shit out and get on with it. I want to hear from you and I know that where you are,  you can't. 

I like to believe that I have you with me... but it all just seems too fucking much. FUCK CANCER... FUCK THIS AND DEFINITELY FUCK DEATH. I get that it is part of the process but honestly, I hate that it happened to you. I hate that I watched the light leave you and that I saw you slip away. Mommy, I love you more than words, and I know that you loved me more than anything. I know you were proud, I know that you were amazed by us... 

Fuck. 

I miss you more than I can communicate. 

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