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Browsing Tag: death
Raising a daughter without your mom… An essay about raising a daughter without your mom. I roamed the streets of Dublin in a haze that shifted from confused to mad to heartbroken with every step. When I saw a small bookstore with signs in the window advertising a going-out-of-business sale, everything only 5 euros, I went inside, leaving my emotions on the street. They didn’t belong in such a sacred space. I found a book smeared in shades of lavender, a color my mom painted our downstairs bathroom. It was called “Love’s Last Gift…
Some years are better than others. That’s life, right? Well, 2016 was one of the worst of my life. I can say this in full confidence now that there’s a day and a half left of it. 2016, you’re a damn mutha fucker if I ever saw one, the biggest of bitches. Thinking about 2016 gives me similar feelings of falling into quicksand (which still seems like it should be a much bigger issue in life since all the television I watched as a child had someone dying in quicksand) or peeling the stringy…
“Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.” ― Mitch Albom, For One More Day There’s something about the line “you know you can go your whole life collecting days” that really hits home for me. I never thought about it like that before, but it’s such a true concept, to think that…
If I’m being honest, I would tell you that the words “I’m sorry for your loss” aren’t helpful. I would tell you that they hurt more. I would tell you that I want to punch you when you say them to me. If I’m being honest, I would talk about how hard it is when I hear my son talk about his Mom-Mom and how much he misses her, how he tells me that “I wish Mom-Mom didn’t have to die” over and over. I would tell you that he’s cried twice…
My mom passed away eight days ago. I was traveling already when she passed. I actually had gotten engaged the day prior, and my dad likes to reassure me that seeing my engagement pictures was the last big smile she produced. She had waited until I left and boarded my plane for Europe, holding on at least that long, telling me, “I’ll do my best,” prior to me leaving, before she took a terrible turn. I knew those words were meant to make me feel okay about leaving. A month before she had told me she promised to hang…
I hear it again and again from friends, kind strangers and even from family sometimes. “At least you know that she is dying, so you have that time with her,” or, “you’re lucky you get this time with her.” I have probably even said these phrases myself over the years to friends who were losing loved ones. But until you go through something like this, you really just don’t understand. So, let’s talk about this for a minute. I totally get that by saying these things, you are trying to be helpful. I’m not trying…
“I just want to feel numb,” I tell her. She stops typing and looks up at me, her eyes kind with worry. “That’s a normal thing to be feeling. You’re going through a lot.” I nod, though it is weak, and take a deep breath. This is only the second time I’ve seen my doctor, Jan*, and I already know she gets it. She wants me to feel better. She prods about other situations in my life and acknowledges them as heavy, heavier than I’ve let on, even…
I’m at a loss. I am terrible at comforting people. I’m the girl who asks one of my best friends “how are you?” when her mom just passed away. Who does that? Me, apparently. Because what do you say? What do you say to someone who just watched their world shatter to pieces? Her and I were going through something similar. I prayed we both would keep our moms. I prayed that neither of us would have to lose the person that matters most to us so young, in our mid-twenties. Life is…
