As excited as I am about moving, I find myself missing my mom now more than I ever dreamed was possible.
Since my mom’s death, my relationship with my daughter has strengthened. Also, my brother and I are closer than we’ve been in many years.
Since we were mere kids, really.
(Sometimes shared grief pulls people together; sometimes, it pulls them apart.)
I am thankful but they both work long hours and are busy with their own lives. My brother has a family of his own, so I can’t be constantly messaging him with every little fart that happens in my world.
I scramble to find somebody to tell the highs and lows to, besides my boyfriend. Nobody is able to fill in the empty hole in my heart. Like everyone else, he’s often distracted by his own issues (and smartphone.)
I sit for long periods of time and contemplate who I should try to reach out to.
Who will give me their uninterrupted attention?
Those last few months of her life, when she became so ill that she couldn’t even leave the couch, she was often grumpy (shit, if I had suffered as she had, I’d have been grumpy as fuck too) but she was there with her unconditional love.
I have yearned for a father figure ever since my sweet, hilarious Uncle Jerry moved farther from me and then sadly passed away back in the early 2000’s. He stepped up to the plate after my dad died in 1986.
It’s occurred to me recently that I’ll never be able to replace her, although nobody could ever come close anyway.
But despite that knowledge, am I now yearning for a mother figure?
For fuck’s sake, I AM a mother. I’m an old lady now, not some young woman, like my daughter.
It’s both my privilege and heartache to want both of my parents back with their beams of love to light up my life again.