I must say, I’ve never felt more wrong about something in my life. I always thought when I spoke to someone seriously that I usually used all my filters and mustered up my sense of humility and empathy before I opened my mouth. I thought for sure I followed the golden rule as to not say anything at all if I couldn’t say something nice, comforting or thoughtful.

Grief has proved me wrong; dead wrong. as many people that have reached out to me to say nice things and offer their support, almost none of it takes any pain away. Almost none of it helps my aching heart. I’ve been told that grief comes in waves, and wow, it does. 

Everything I used to be as I know it is gone. My calm, my peace, my patience is missing. I have to put on razor sharp focus goggles and strap them tight to my head for the simplest things now. Everything feels elevated, anxious and sometimes I’m terrified by it.

These days the waves are full of salt and sand and they cut me like a blade, starting on the insides of my heart and making their way to my brain and then the waves sink onto my shoulders and lay there like a wet heavy coat.

Everything hurts. Smiling, laughing, breathing. It hurts. I’m thankful for my dad, my brother and my sister. My husband and my glorious golden son. 

I hate to leave my house unless it’s to be at my mom’s. I like to go through her things and smell them, touch them and put them on. I like to find her overnight bags she never got to unpack. It has her favorite jewelry, one or two miniature empty shot bottles of captain, a tooth brush and 7 tubes of cream, Alex and Ani bracelets in another Henry Bendel bag, Bandas Soleil sun screen, a turquoise round brush and a Burberry bikini. She saved everything; ‘do not disturb’ door-hangs from all the vacations she took with my dad, little souvenirs from all the places she’s traveled, magnets, anklets, ugh. 

She always had everything. So prepared. She wanted for nothing. She was spoiled and pampered by my dad daily. This is what gives me some peace inside my heart. She lived the greatest love story ever told for nearly 40 years. My dad treated her like his queen. 

I miss her. I say goodnight to a picture frame and keep a pink sea salt light on in front of it every night. I light a candle in front of the most beautiful face every morning. I talk to her every chance I can. 

The waves are tall today, and it seems to get harder as I move through life now. Days are difficult but night time grabs me by the heart and smacks me in the face with my loss. With her absence. 

Today I return to my new normal. My painful and heart wrenching truth that I will never be able to call my mom on my way home from work ever. Again. I’ll never see her name in my book again. I’ll never be able to look forward to a homemade lunch hand delivered to me at work. I’ll never be able to touch her or feel her touch me. No hugs, no kisses, and I’ll never hear her laugh at my stories ever again. 

I’m thankful for everyone reaching out to me and for loving me through this. Though somehow the world is still spinning, mine has been turned on its axis. The sunshine hurts but is somehow more beautiful at the same time. The rain is welcomed because it matches my mood. I know one day I will be ok and that I will make it through this very devastating and horrific experience but today is not that day. And I’m ok with that. 

Feeling the pain in all its worth makes me  understand that with all that pain once lived a lot of love. Love that was alive and happy, a love that was returned by my angel mother. My love for her is still very much alive and I’m so acutely aware of how alive it is by how much I hurt. 

Mama, I only miss you in between every second. I love you more than I even understand. I can’t wait to feel your presence surround me. Please come soon.