Originally published February 16, 2019, six days after losing my mom.
My brain has known that grief is a process, and now my heart is in on it.
What are those stages? Shock, denial, anger, acceptance, pissed, sobbing, shock again? something like that.
I’ve read the books, attended the workshops, and helped people through theirs, but now it’s my turn to step through the words on the page and the charts and move through it all in reality.
Reality. That’s harder than you think it will be.
As I left Northern California that morning, I realized I hadn’t been home since Mom went Home. That’s an odd and plainly self-evident thing to have occurred to me, but
most of my recent thoughts felt odd
– like they’d been hovering around me and then slipped into my mind and softly surprised me and reminded me that things were different now.
My mind knew – sort of – but my heart didn’t remember… but then a rational thought dropped in, landed on my heart, and sunk slowly in…
I gasp a bit, my eyes fill again, and I look around and see things come into focus with a new filter – the “I’m never going to be calling my mom again” filter.
Reality – doesn’t change the color of the world, but it tints the emotion and makes everything feel at once cavernous and compressed, like things are echoing and distant but tight and close to my heart at the same time.
It feels real and unreal.
After she passed like a whisper from this world into her new beautiful Home, I stayed in that place – her home – touching her bed, feeling her carpet, clearing out her drawers…
holding little reminders of her life and loves…
breathing the last air that she breathed, smelling the homey aroma of her oils and foods and just her, along with the unfriendly smells of oxygen tank tubing, medicines, and tears.
Driving home after that long week was moving toward a new kind of home.
356 miles from there to here and for each mile a memory and a day and a reminder of this new life. Home is where I’ll be back where she was…at least in my mind and heart.
Home is where I’ll see that quilt she made for me, that box of oils she gave me, the last letter she wrote to me.
Home is where I last prayed for her, texted her, wrote to her, and spoke to her.
Home is where I sit and sigh and wish that God hadn’t taken her Home so soon, too soon, and where I remember that she’s the one who taught me to trust Him – His love, His plan, His timing and to not let my sadness leave me longing for anything other than more of Him and His love, His plan, and His timing…to trust that while I’m here and home
she’s whole and Home.
That’s my new reality.
So beautiful. Thank you for sharing your heart.
reading this brought tears along with joy. I felt the presence of everything you talked about. The smells, the carpet, her presence. When i vacuumed my car a week after I visited your mama I found these random strands of white hair not only in my car but also on my pillow and blanket I took to her house. I was a little confused at first but remembered how she asked me to comb her hair while she would pull strands out and then she would ask me to help her get all the loose hairs off of her. Jennifer, I brought a part of your mama home with me.
You know at the griefshare class I go to they said that it actually takes the heart 6 months to a year to catch up with what the mind knows. Your mind knows she’s with Jesus but your heart probably still cannot believe it. Grieving can be so complex my sweet sis. When you love much, the grieving is harder. This will take a lifetime. You are so blessed to have a mother, best friend, and sister in Christ. My heart breaks for you sis. You know your story is way to close to my heart. 😢 I will continue to pray for you and your journey for the weeks, months, and years to come.
Be blessed my sweet sis
Thank you, Rachel. It is still such a surreal experience. I know you understand the love and loss.
It doesn’t feel real to me either than your Mom is no longer with us. Thought of you today knowing you’d probably be on the road and have hours to reflect on this past week. Thank you for allowing us into your world, revealing your honest thoughts and tender heart which give us a glimpse of how God is sustaining you.
It’s easy to see that you are not just a skilled writer, but a gifted one. Glad that you are pursuing your dream.