“See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory that someone has left this world, you are still in it”
~Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper
Me and Mom, circa 1982
Five years ago today I lost my mom. Since then I haven't truly felt like myself, like I lost a piece of myself that day. I watched my closest confidant, my biggest supporter, and the best mom in the world slip away from me as she took her last breath.
My son was there with me that day. He was just a few weeks shy of three years old and I'd brought him to say good-bye to his grandma. She'd been unconscious for the week leading up to the end that we knew was coming. Within minutes of Reagan's last hug and kiss, I watched her breathing slow and eventually stop. To be honest, a lot of my memories of what happened next have faded. But the emotions of those moments are not lost. In fact, as I sit here typing this, they've flooded back as if it were just yesterday. After five years, you'd think the pain wouldn't feel so fresh. But it hurts. oh, how it hurts.
I miss her so much. I think of how much she's missed out on. What my family has missed out on by not having her around. She would be in LOVE with her grand kids, she was fantastic with them, she lived for them. For her family. She's had a new grandchild since, and one more on the way. I feel for my sisters' children, and future children, for they will never know their grandma Kelly. My own kids do not have memories of her, they were too young. But they have photos and stories that tell of her love for them. We keep her memory alive by talking about her all the time. They know things about her like: grandma's favorite things, what she enjoyed doing, what she would have done in a certain situation, or just talking about my own memories of her.
I can only hope that she'd be proud of me and of the choices I've made since she passed. I try to live the way I know she would have done. To be a fraction of the woman she was would be a miracle to me. I don't know how she managed to be the way she was, I have nowhere near the struggles she faced, and can barely manage to survive. She was a single mom who was hard working, caring for every single human being she ever met, and the life of any party. She never let things get her down, or at least never let it show when they did. I admired her so much, and never really got the chance to let her know it.
As the years go on I will continue to miss her, and even though it hurts to relive that painful day, I can only hope that the feelings remain. When it no longer hurts, then it means I've lost her for good.