Here's how the fall/winter emotional turmoil timeline goes....
- November 17--Anniversary of the day my mom died. It's been 4 years.
- That next week-- Thanksgiving, here on my own since I can never get the time off to go home. Don't get me wrong, I spend the food fest with Meg sometimes (like this year), but it's not quite the same.
- December--Christmas. Here because again, no time off to go home. This was the first year that I haven't been home with my dad for Christmas since Mom died. I'm not sure which of us was more upset about it--I'd wager it's a tie, but who knows. Christmas was "Mom's Holiday" when I was a kid. We'd bake. We'd wrap gifts. She taught me to tie bows the way her dad taught her. She also taught me how to flawlessly unwrap gifts to see what they were and re-wrap them so that nobody could tell you'd been peeking.
- January 19--My mom would've been 59 this year. It was inventory at work so I wasn't allowed to take the day off. I'd like to think that I'm functional on this day, but at any point in the day, I get hit up side the head with an emotional frying pan that breaks me into little emotional pieces that have to be carefully put back together--usually with wine.
Okay, so this year on Mom's birthday, I held it together pretty well. Well, I thought I did. I was scheduled 6:30-11 at work for inventory, so I was out and about to keep busy most of the day. That's the key. Stay as busy as possible. Occupy the mind with other mundane bullshit so that you don't lose your shit. Inventory was dumb as always and I was okay until about 10:40pm...That's when I was trying to find a lost item number and was left on my own for a minute too long. I was working with Jorge (who is a good manager) and he went to check the numbers and when he came back, I was sniveling quietly and trying to get it under control. Jorge naturally thought I was upset about the lost item number, but I said it wasn't that and could I please go home. I wept in my car from the time the engine turned over until I pulled into my parking spot.
The next day, my friend Dori asked how it had gone. We work together, so she knew I was a little hacked off about having to work the previous night. "Everyone says it gets easier as time passes," she said. "Does it?"
"No, it doesn't." I could see the shock on her face. I know that most people expect the easy, popular answer. Screw that. You wanna know? Okay, here's my take on why it doesn't get easier. With each anniversary, holiday, and birthday (hers or mine); the following things find their way to the surface--
- God, I miss her. I think it daily, but at this time of the year, I ache with it. With every ornament I put on my Christmas tree (all of which she gave me), my heart just hurts.
- Another year passing is more that she's not been here for. This seems odd to people. Let me try to explain it this way--Since she's been gone, I've gone through a ton of life events. Some good--some bad--but all of which make a girl want to pick up the phone and call her mom. Maybe for advice or even just some commiseration when things were bad.
- More time gone is more of a reminder of what she didn't get to see. Neither myself, or my brother are married. Neither of us have kids. So, my mother, who was always adamant that grandkids would be the greatest thing ever, didn't get them. My dad is amped up for them, but right now, he needs to look to my brother to provide them.
Maybe this isn't how everyone looks at things, but I'm not normal, as most people know. I'm not saying I wallow in self-misery at this point of the year, but I find that I fall to pieces a lot easier than the rest of the year. I am lucky in some ways. I have good friends here. Some who are feeling the same things, some who aren't, but who are sympathetic--and one who is willing to listen and withdraw plasma from my arm twice a week.
Bottom line is this--If you know someone who's experienced a loss--Don't assume that because it wasn't yesterday or a year ago that the grief they feel has gone or even lightened. Ever person handles it differently. Deal with it.
