Today marks 12 weeks. I thought, perhaps, my next post would not be about my mom. Well, I am happy to say that this post, much like my life, is not all about losing my mom.
So here’s what I’ve learned in the last 12 weeks:
- I like lists. They require little cohesion and no organization at all.
- There is a very fine, at times imperceptible, line between “grieving” and “crazy.”
- You don’t really get it – not really – until it’s you.
- I’m stronger than I thought. I lost the one person I talked to more, shared more, listened to more, relied on more, leaned on more than any other person in the world. And I’m okay. Despite my previous concerns, I wasn’t swallowed by the hole she left in the world.
- I like cemeteries. You can cry all you want and no one looks at you twice. Cause you’re in a cemetery.
- Death is arbitrary. My mom wasn’t even two weeks past her 67th birthday, she had low blood pressure, low cholesterol, ate healthy, didn’t smoke, rarely drank, got all her mammograms, colonoscopies, physicals, etc., stayed active, and took her vitamins. And she was literally gone in a matter of seconds. Be healthy so that you can feel good while you’re here – but all the healthy living in the world isn’t going to grant you longevity if it isn’t in the cards.
- The dead apparently do not haunt by request. No matter how much you wish for a visit.
- Apparently I don’t need to share every thought that ever pops into my head with someone. I used to have someone I told everything to. Now, I probably share 50% of those thoughts. Which, I guess, means I have a lot of insignificant thoughts. Or just no one that finds significance in them.
- Even on dark days, wine makes me happy.
- Getting my eye makeup tattooed on a year and a half ago was a sound investment.