Pain is Tangible

I don't need sympathy.
I don't need to hear how sorry people are or how "unfortunately" the pain will never stop. Believe me, I'm aware of that...

I just need an outlet, and unfortunately, that was mom. So now I'm lost and this blog will be my stand in. 

Last night I had a dream, more so, a nightmare.
I walked into a familiar place, all seeming so real, and there she was. Lounging in a chair, talking to an unseen being. She was in her beautiful mint green dress, that she wore in my wedding, and looked happy and healthy as ever.

As soon as I saw her, I was overcome with pure despair; It was in that moment that I knew I was dreaming.  Instantly, my knees buckled and the loss ripped through me with unbelievable power. My dream world spun around as I dropped, my tears stung as I wept and I gasped for air trying with all my might to cry out for Mom. I managed to find the strength to crawl to her and suddenly a glass door stopped me; I couldn't get to her. I started pounding on the door, crying out for her and as if it were slow motion she turned to me and smiled. I cried out, "I miss you, I miss you, I miss you..." over and over with no response, just a warm smile. I pulled out my phone to call her and before I hit dial, I awoke.

I literally can't describe how tangible this pain is. Waking everyday to remember she's gone is like salt in a wound but waking after a dream like that is worse. My mom was my best friend, not in the way that people warn against, but in the perfect balance of friend and mom. She was my confidante, my motivation, my drinking pal, and the person I looked up to most.

I hate showing my pain. I hate complaining about my problems, I know it can always be worse. I know almost everyone loses a parent; Many people have lost someone to cancer and many people know my pain. But that doesn't make it hurt less. It doesn't make it ok that this is a fact of life.

I promised her over and over that we would be ok without her and we are. But just that, OK; not good, not great, not even better. Just ok.

How do you move forward after such an impactful blow? I just don't know....

Dear Mom....

Dear Mom,

Today was your memorial; although, if what they say is true, you already knew that.

Yet, let's say for the sake of healing that you didn't know. Let's say that you are in some miraculous other world having moved on from this painful one. Let's say that you didn't have to see the pain on our faces, feel the sorrow in our hearts, and hear the stifled sobs from those in attendance. Also, for my selfish means and delusional hopes that this letter can reach you in some way or another.

In regards to mother's, there are so many cheesy quotes and quips about the wisdom they bestow upon their children. One that stood out loud and clear to me today was the saying that, 'Mom is always right'. Yet, Mom, I'm sorry to say that it stood out because it's not true....
You were always so adamant that you weren't the glue to the family; that you weren't as wonderful as we made you sound. However, I can tell you with utmost certainty that you were wrong. If you had been there today you would have been astounded by the number of people that came out of the woodwork to pay their respects. As humble as you tried to be, you made a huge impact on so many people. Every room was full, standing room only by the end and they were all there to remember you. All those people were there because of how amazing you were, like it or not.

Since you passed, the past five days have been surreal. Like the ocean you and I love so much, the reality has hit me in waves. Some of the moments strong and painful, but enough for me to calmly stand against and work through until they ebb. However, even in the few days since we lost you, I have been struck by waves much stronger than my will to stand strong. The sorrow rips through me like the tide and drags me under while I gasp for air, reaching out for anything to grab onto to pull me out from it's powerful current. This.

This is where the family you helped glue together has been my life vest. Mom, I know you were adamant that you were not the glue to the family because to you that meant that we would all fall apart without you. But that's not how it is, you'd be happy to know even now that you are gone, this glue holds strong. You held all of us together for so long that we melded together. While losing you is a stress on us, I can assure you that we will still stick together. You taught us, all those years, how important it is to be there for each other. You taught us to love each other, even when we hated each other. I could go on and on but I think you get the gist. We have been and will be there for each other in for the rest of our lives as you were for yours. We will act as a life vest for each other and while there may be moments we are all drug out in the riptide of pain and loss, we will work together to swim back from it all.

You may have been right about 99% of the lessons you taught me but in these few ways, you were wrong. And for that, I am so greatful. I miss you with all that I am but in these past few days and especially today, I saw how wonderful you were to so many other people. You touched us all in your own strong, beautiful way and none of us will ever forget you.

 I dream of you each night hopeful that you are happy and strong as ever in your new wonderful world. I hope you are swimming with dolphins and jumping out of planes, exploring new places and spending time with all the others that passed before you. We will be okay, I promise. You spent your whole life, until your very last days, worrying about us; so please, try something new. Enjoy your time, enjoy your cancer free life, and make room because before you know it, we will be driving you crazy again.

I love you Mama, always have, always will.
Until I see you again. ♡♥♡