Thursday, February 14, 2013

The week of February that I hate

If it weren't for Lydia's birthday on the 11th, I'd seriously just wish the entire month of February to go away, disappear, just skip straight to March. I'd love to say that I've moved on, but I haven't.  When this time rolls around, I get bitter, emotional, sad, upset, and just flat out angry.
I absolutely can't stand Valentines Day. It ranks right up there with Halloween. I could care less about teddy bears, flowers, and heart candy. Seriously - and this year it only got worse. Everybody's all "date night with the hubby" or "I'm totally loved" blah blah blah.   J and I always boycott. But I also know that when Valentines day comes, the week that lies ahead is only going to get worse.

There are many days in the month of February that I relive so vividly now that I would honestly choose not to have ever experienced.  If you ask me, I can pretty much tell you what I was doing, what I was wearing, what I ate, and where I was on any of those days.  Truth is, it actually starts back in January.  On January 24, 2009, my life started to change drastically. Mom hit one of the lowest points in her illness, and from that day on, declined in her health to her death. She had a stroke, seizure, or something (it was never really determined/clarified).  You can read about everything for yourself at her caringbridge site if you'd like (but grab some kleenex, I can't make any promises for dry eyes!).  Not only are these past weeks so hard to relive, but these next 4-7 days are so bitter for my memory. I get a day like today and think "this was the last day 4 years ago that I heard my mother speak", or a day like tomorrow and think about the sounds of the machines and her moaning from all of the pain, or the split second I literally watched my mother take in her last breath. It was hard to live in those moments, but it's even harder to relive them. While we were in the moment, we all knew what we were up against. We were waiting, patiently, for her departure confidant of the Rest that she would find.  We had already grieved the loss of our mother/wife/nana/friend in the 22 months prior to her death.  But as we relive the days, it's a reminder of the reality that my mother is dead.

Many folks have their opinion of what year is the hardest. Some say the first, others say the 3rd. But so far, for me, it's only proving to get harder. Having Miriam was certainly the biggest life change since mom's death (or ever probably!), and then, of course, the birth of Lydia so close to her death-iversary, and to have my daughters in life with me is sometimes difficult without having my mother around. I just miss her.

Please don't be mistaken, I have full assurance that my mother rests with Jesus. She was healed the moment her heart stopped beating and we were so grateful for God's mercy on her for that. But that doesn't make missing her any easier.  On February 19,2009 at 2:51 p.m. my momma died. I sat by her side, knelled over, I held my mom's left hand and watched her breathe her last breath. She's gone, and I can't bring her back. There is NOTHING easy about that.

I can only hope that the next week passes quickly and in a blur, we'll be moving on...