So, it's hitting me hard of late. I really really am missing my Mom.
I know, I know, so many think that Mom was gone a long time ago because of her insidious battle with alzheimer's, or that "she better off now", but it is not the truth I've shared with her.You've read about my frustration in trying to understand her--to figure out what she was trying to communicate. Yet, among all the angst of that, she would inevitably shine through with a twinkle in her eyes, or a grin, or a tease aimed at one of us. Even her last words to me the visit the week before she died, was while looking at this old, wild curly-headed, overweight cat-lady of a woman, were, "You are adorable!". That can only come from looking through a Mother's eyes at the youth I once was to her. Her words when they were spoken were precise and well chosen. I berate myself for not fighting the Labor Day Weekend traffic off-island for what would have been "one more visit". I have become pretty much a recluse, and feeling so heavy, dark, and weighed down. I hurt. I want to crawl out of my skin, like those worse days of my FMSpain and fibrofog. My hair hurts, my eyes, my teeth enamel, my total self, soul to physical. Marilyn assures me that this pain is still within the realm of "normal grief" not something that has turned a corner into depression, but it is so hard to believe that this will diminish at some point. I want to take a drive to BFH and just steal a hug or a kiss. Perhaps make her smile. Oh, how I miss her!!! The guilts reign supreme still -- shoulda woulda coulda. I love my Mother.
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