Nine Years

It's been nine years. Nine long years. Nine short years. Nine lonely years. Nine full years. Nine years of missing her like crazy.

Nine years ago today, I lost my mom. And I lost of part of myself at the same time.

And things have never been quite the same.

When you lose someone close to you, and you're dealing with intense, soul-wrenching grief, you keep waiting for your life to get back to normal. It takes a while for the harsh reality to sink in. That normal you used to know is gone, and it won't be coming back.

You have to get used to a new normal. And frankly, sometimes that new normal stinks. Big time.

My mom's death was sudden. I didn't get to say goodbye. That fact bothered me for a long, long time. I envied those whose stories of losing their parents included having the opportunity to be with them as they left this world. I deeply mourned the fact that I didn't get that chance.

I think it takes your brain a little while to accept the fact that the person you love is gone. For weeks after my mom died, whenever the phone rang, I would think for just a split second that maybe it was her calling me. And I was so excited for that split second. Then I was so devastatingly sad when reality clicked in and I realized it would not and could not be her.

So much has happened in my life since March 21, 2004. My kids have grown so much. I'm sad that my mom has not been here to see that. I know she would have been so proud to see the things all of her grandchildren have accomplished since the day she left us. 

But then again, I know that her spirit lives on, and I hope that she has the opportunity to take a peek at the goings-on in her children's and grandchildren's lives. 

I miss her laugh. I miss her hugs. I miss her encouraging words.

I am grateful for the things she taught me.

And most of all, I  am grateful for her love.