Yesterday my sister-in-law and I walked along the beach with our families. We are both mothers who lost our own mothers way too soon. I have a collection of shells that my mom and I started when I was little. I mentioned it and soon we were picking up shells to add to my collection.
She asked me how I was doing this Mother’s Day. I said I was doing fine. It is my second Mother’s Day since my mom died but she had been brain injured in a nursing home for 21 years before that, so many, many Mother’s Days have come and gone since we could celebrate together. I told her that over the years I had gotten used to it and that it was actually easier now knowing that she is at peace and not suffering anymore.
I asked her how she was doing and she said much the same. We talked about things that triggered grief for us. It is often the less obvious things. I thought about what a blessing it is to have someone to share with. I wish she hadn’t had to go through the pain of losing her mom but I love that we “get” each other. It’s a blessing to be able to share in each other’s loss.
We had such a lovely Mother’s Day together. We walked the beach, we shopped in Palm Beach and had a lovely dinner out with our families. It really was a perfect day.
But on the our 4 hour drive home, in the quiet of the car, the grief started to make it’s way up from deep in my heart. As I read the various posts about moms and saw beautiful pictures of women my age with their beautiful mothers I realized I was not really doing fine.
I was doing what I always do. I was ignoring the pain. I knew what the rest of the night would be like. I would be at war with my emotions trying to distract myself so the emotions wouldn’t win, tossing and turning unable to sleep.
But instead of my regular routine, I decided to do something different. When we got home, I let Danny in on what was going on in my head. He listened as I told him how conflicting it was to be so blessed and so happy but to also have this hollow void down deep.
We took out the shells we had collected, I got out the jar of shells that my mom and I began when I was little and we started looking through them. Suddenly the void was filled with memories…sweet ones. I told him stories of how my mom would take us to Jones Beach in the winter to play on the beach. I cried a little and released the grief and remarkably, I felt much better.
I realized that joy and pain can coexist.
Maybe this allowing myself to feel stuff is going to be okay after all.
May 12, 2014 at 2:51 pm
So beautiful, T. Love you!
May 12, 2014 at 3:04 pm
Love you too, sissy! xoxo
May 12, 2014 at 4:55 pm
Thanks for sharing! It’s scary to allow time to process grief but so healing. God gave us those emotions for a reason 🙂 you’re a great mom and our whole family has great memories of you and your family especially Lele!
May 13, 2014 at 1:43 pm
Thanks for sharing I lost my mom 14 years ago. You never really get over it. You just keep growing. In my case I pray I can be as good a mom and grandma as my mom was to me and my children! The thing that makes me feel at peace is knowing I was blessed to have a mom that I could miss and also knowing she is with so many loved ones that she cried over silently in her heart and now she is there united with them once again as I will be when God decides to call me home, Many hugs Tracey, I am so sure your mom looked down with pride on her girls and shared your missing her as the best mother’s day gift a mother could be honored to have, “her children’s love in their hearts”!!!! That is a true blessing <3
May 13, 2014 at 3:54 pm
Thank you Jackie!! Yes..it helps to focus on my kids and now my grandbaby for sure!! xo