Wednesday marked one year since my mom passed away. In some ways, it seems like it happened yesterday, and in others, it seems even longer than one year ago. It's funny how grief works. It's different for everyone, I know. To me, it closely resembles a roller coaster. It has been awhile since my last trip to Six Flags, but I think that the Screaming Eagle most closely resembles the grief pattern that I seem to follow. Sometimes, the days come and go quickly and easily. Sometimes, they go slower and make your stomach do a little wavy thing. Then, out of nowhere, you can find yourself on a slow, hard climb to a place where your emotions can find some relief. Instead of finding relief, however, the tears flow more than you ever thought they could. You drop down to the bottom and feel like you want to vomit, you can't breathe, or maybe you even kick and scream and wave your arms telling the operator that you want off the ride. NOW. But the operator can't do anything for you.
No one can bring my mom back. God is the operator of this roller coaster of grief that I am on. I must finish the ride, endure the valleys and the plateaus, the fast, the slow, all of it. This week, I felt a familiar feeling. A sense of calm, peace, and acceptance. Just as I did in the days before my mom's death. Then, as Tuesday came, I began to think about where I was last year, how I felt, the difficult decisions that we were faced with as a family. I melted. I felt like I was living it all over again. I actually felt as if all life had been sucked out of me.
Wednesday came, and Chad, Mason and I went to visit her grave. I hadn't been for awhile, and going that day brought back even more memories of her funeral. It was so hard. SO hard. I miss my mom. All the time. I want her back. Healthy. Some days, I am angry; some days I am sad; some days, I am both. But, I know in this roller coaster of grief, that relief will come.
It will come...it will come...
...still waiting.
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