It has been 3 months since Mom passed. I am in awe at how different I feel. Some of it is no longer having to live with a fear that started in my gut, crawled all the way up to my throat and choked me, 24 hours a day. There were a million things to be afraid of:Mom needing a bone marrow transplant. Mom not being able to recieve a bone marrow transplant. Mom having a bad reaction to chemo. Mom’s bone marrow not recovering to the point of being able to get chemo.
Most of all, Mom dying.
Well, I don’t have to be afraid anymore (not that being afraid made any difference, and in fact just made the final months of her life less pleasant for me, but it was unavoidable). I’m sure it contributes to feeling lighter, but its not the whole story.
I don’t hear her talking to me. I don’t smell her. I don’t see her in crowds. I don’t visit with her in my dreams. I don’t feel her hands in mine. I don’t taste her cooking. But I do feel her all around me, and I feel like I have assimilated her. There are parts of her that are now my own. I feel her in action– in the motivation to do kindness, listen to others, and pursue my dreams. I am smiling more. Some of her light is now my own.
This shift in my personality, my spirit hasn’t been fully realized. There are relationships and activities which have been neglected through my mom’s illness that I have not returned to yet. Due to the grief and the many constraints on my life, they may be neglected for some more time yet. But I’m getting back into the swing of things. I’m coming through this transition a better person. Mom wouldn’t have it any other way.