I lost my mother 20 months ago. And while the world and even family and friends largely expect me to be "healed" of my pain and grief, not a day, hour, event goes by where I don't think "wow, this is fun- but not as fun as it could or should Be". I know I am not the only one who has lost a mother, or parent, child, friend, or more- and I know my pain does not trump another's, but my pain is daunting and exhausting. Like I imagine yours may be, too.
My mother knew exactly what to say at any given moment. Feeling fat? She could encourage you to love yourself while encouraging you to be the best you. Huge zit? She could help you laugh off how much it stands out because really- it's not important. Hate your job? She'd let you vent and would remind you of how lucky your employer is.
These little moments are what I miss the most. There are dozens of moments each day that I want to hear her voice, her guidance, her wisdom. My mom was so young- but had lived so many lives. She knew a little bit of everything, and could and did answer all of my questions- which was a lot. She actually used to mock my siblings and I for how many questions we asked her! We assumed she knew everything so why not ask!
I also find myself missing how much she held so many people together. The dad I had with my mom is no longer here, nor myself nor my siblings. While that's not a "bad" thing necessarily, I just miss who we all were when she was here. Softer, gentler, joyful people we often were.
I miss family. I prided myself and identified my family as one of my biggest strengths in college entrance essays and job interviews. I now feel like a child from a broken home, because mine now is. Again, this is no ones fault and not necessarily "bad" just really sad and hard to accept. My siblings and I will likely be celebrating our last true family Christmas with our dad this year, and by last I only mean the last time with our fun silly Polen traditions. Everyone grows up and families change, but mine had to change too soon. Our family vacations may(?) still exist but they exist differently and less excitedly. Again, not bad, but different.
I believe all adults experience pain with their shift from nuclear family to their own family, but when that shift is forced upon them, it's challenging. My clinical mind analyzes this all the time while my heart just aches.
What's even more disheartening is that my mom would know exactly how to walk each of us through this experience and process. She'd guide my dad through how to embark on his new adventure with a new family while also keeping our family close. She'd help my sister navigate decisions she has been faced with regarding her job and life. She'd help my brother by talking through his college plans and dreams. She'd guide me through my marriage and hopeful mommy hood. She would know how to help us navigate our individual lives in the midst of our communal pain. But she is the one that's gone.
What I hold onto is that I know she spent enough time with me to teach me so many things, and I need to hold onto that as I face decisions and trials. I hope my siblings and dad do that, too.
