The day that my mom passed away, I had a dream that she embraced me to let me know that she was ok.
I just entered a room where she was standing. It was darkly lit and she was on the phone. She walked in my direction, wrapped her arm around me in a tight hug, and lightly whispered in my ear that everything was fine.
It was a brief reprieve from the lightning sharp pain of the day. I didn’t sleep well for weeks and continued to dream about her.
Since then, everything has been hazy. I guess I recently came to that conclusion after listening to “Believe in Yourself” off of The Wiz Live! Original Soundtrack.
Maybe it’s the musical arrangement or the tenor of the song, but it casts a long shadow of grief over me that I hadn’t felt since my mom left.
Uzo Aduba does a wonderful service to the song and makes you feel and see every word that she sings.
I’d like to think that my belief in the song is that it will come true for me; that one day I’ll go home and see my mom again.
But I know that tangibly, in this life, it can’t happen. And it brings a burden of sadness that’s overwhelming.
I miss my mom. I miss her raspy voice. I miss our conversations. I miss her laughter. I miss her booming yells into the phone when she was upset. I miss calling her and hearing her say, “how you doin?”
My memories are overcome with seeing her in a casket. A flower perched upon her hair that was braided not long before she died.
Not sure how long grief lasts but it seems like forever. I’ve been in the doldrums of it because I choose not to think about my mom. If I do, it elicits feelings of anger and resentment. Why take my mom away? Why so suddenly? I didn’t have an opportunity to say goodbye.
We talked three days before she died and it was a long conversation. I can’t remember what we discussed, but towards the end of our conversation, she told me to tell everyone “Hi” and that she would talk to me later.
Then she was gone…in a flash. And just as suddenly as she left, my grief has returned two years after.
I’ve gone so long without feeling. I’ve coasted along with blinders attached. If a memory attempts to emerge, I’ll punt it away and force myself to think of something else.
This pain recently has been tangible. Almost as if I can see it and taste it. Feeling like a cold is coming on, grief kind of struck with subtle warnings.
My mom died a few days before Christmas a couple of years ago. For whatever reason, last year was easier than this one. Maybe it’s why my mood has been funky and I’ve just wanted to laze around the house.
My mom and I at Disneyland in California.
I just wish that it would all go away; the grueling and twisting feeling of sadness wrapped in anger. I know that eventually life will turn and things will seem as normal as always.
It has to.
So then I know that the anguish I feel when thinking of my wonderful mother will morph into laugher and many smiles. Whenever I see Tiger Woods or hear a joke that I know she would enjoy, it will bring some sort of comfort.
Still… I miss everything about her. Even the stale smell of menthol when I would walk into her house. I miss seeing her wave her hand around to shoo the smoke away and laugh when I would tell her that it wouldn’t work.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever accepted that my mom isn’t here. Not sure if I ever will to be honest. Maybe that’s ok and maybe it isn’t. Not really sure.
The confidence in my feelings rests with knowing one thing: I thoroughly miss having my mom around.
-JH
