ChristineK

This will be second Mother's Day without mom. Last year I think I was still in shock and did not even recognize the day at all. I returned to work on Monday and everyone asked how was my Mother's Day. I had forgotten. This year I can't stop myself from reading all the cards. I read / cry /walk away / comeback / read / cry...... I am torturing myself. God I miss her! I love you Mommie D!

I miss the phone calls in the middle of the night – “it’s me are you awake” no “okay go back to sleep” I miss her accent on over-enunciating words in French. I miss her witty sense of humour. (and giggling together on jokes that went over everyone else’s head) I miss her puns. I miss red delicious apples. I miss clam chowder. I miss her little sticky note reminders. I miss holding hands. I miss speaking freely to her about my day, my life. I miss combing her hair. I miss trying to decipher her grocery lists – “put your elbows on the table. Put your thumbs and fingers together to form a ball. Got it? Now, this is the size of the cabbage I want you to buy” I miss her showing up at my door. I miss taking the afternoon off so we could sit on my patio and have a beer – “ah now I can finally relax” when of course she was retired. I miss our secret shorthand no one could understand but us. I miss sneaking away to Moskovitz and Moskowitz. I miss girl breakfasts. I miss her so much. Thanks, Christine

On Saturday I woke from a dream sobbing. I was dreaming of our flowering apple blossoms and decided to cut a few branches to mix with some freshly picked lilacs. The branches were in an old umbrella stand by the front door. With my back turned from the doorway I was making the flower arrangement at a table when I hear voices coming towards the door. I vaguely remember the conversation but I clearly remember her voice. I heard her say “where is that smell coming from? It smells like lilacs – does Christine know the lilacs are out? Oh, here is where it’s coming from…” I turned in time to see her reaching for a lilac out of the umbrella stand. And there she was. Mom. She saw me and I saw her and we looked at each other smiling. She lifted her hand out with the lilac to hand to me and exclaimed – “you’re here!” She handed me the lilac and I woke up. I have been reliving this dream since. It was the first time I could see her smiling face and remember it without the clouded vision of her taking her last breath lying in a hospital bed. Pictures and memories have not comforted me. I cannot get past the moment she died. I do want to say thank you for all your warm thoughts and kind words. I have been reading your comments and have wanted to post but I don’t have the strength. My first post exhausted me. I have put a call into my counselor that I used to see a few years ago. I hope she calls me back. Next, I will tell you what I miss about her. Christine

I have been reading along for some time and I have been trying to piece together responses to others' posts to suit my situation. It's not working. I need some help. Here's a little bit about me...my mother passed away on February 7th from complications due to a stroke. My mother had many different illnesses during her lifetime. These illnesses included doctor's visits, hospital stays and many many appointments. I attended many appointments with her because her "selective" hearing would routinely provide a diagnosis nowhere near the truth. She and I spoke every day. We had everything in common. Career, politics, life and friends. My mother was the smartest woman I know. She was my best friend and at times she was my worst enemy. My siblings called us co-dependant. I knew my mother wouldn't live forever. I thought I prepared myself. I have a very demanding career. I am the go-to person for everyone at work, my family and my friends. You know - "that girl". The one who has it together. Well that's not me anymore. I don't sleep. It feels like forever since I've had more that three hours sleep at a time. I don't want to go to work and while I'm at work I don't want to work. I am not very good company. I cry all the time. All the time. So much so that I need to leave the office to clear my head. I get myself so upset I don't come back. Co-workers barely look at me anymore for dreading to catch my tear-filled eyes. I want to see her again. I want to touch her. Smell her. I don't recognize myself. This isn't me. I honestly don't know how to go on without her. I'm falling apart. I want you to know what an amazing woman she was and how much I miss her but, that's all for now. Christine