My Glue

I'm missing my glue.

With my mom being gone for a week now, I'm realizing all the smaller ways her life was woven into mine.  Whether it was good or bad, she was many times my mediator between me and family.  I could talk to her and hear updates on a multitude of people in one phone call.  I could ask her for advice on how to approach situations.

All families have their oddities.  Mine is no different.  Sometimes you need to be in the middle of it to see it and understand it.  So while I know there are many people that would take my phone call if I needed to vent or seek advice, but they just won't get it like she did.  It would take too much explanation.  It would be misinterpreted.

I'm probably not making much sense.

My mom was the common link that held many relationships together.  They can still be held together now but it will take a lot more work and intention on my part.

Maybe this isn't such a bad thing.  Maybe I need to put my big girl pants on and stop peeing in my pull-up.

Unfortunately I want to just sit in my pull-up and throw my tantrum at the moment.  thankyouverymuch.

Right now I just want her back. I want to call her and get her wisdom on what to do with my child and his crazy sleep habits, or lack there of.  I want her to come help me organize and clean my house, because honestly, who else besides your mom can you ask to do that?  While I love my husband dearly, we have different cleaning styles and it just isn't the same to spend a day organizing with him.

I have spent many a night crying as of late, as I am sure it was to be expected.  Last night I continued with my pull-up aged rant as I sobbed that it wasn't fair.  It wasn't fair for her to die.  It wasn't fair for me and my sisters to not have a mom.  It's not fair that Grayson won't remember his Nanny.  It's just not stinkin fair.

I don't know what runs through everyone else's head as they cry their face off, but my brain is telling me to just knock it off.  Just stop crying.  Because it is going to hurt no matter what.  While my exterior is expressing all of my hurt and falling apart, it has to fight with my interior to do so.  I want to logic away the pain.

I couldn't logic away the pain in Starbucks with Jon the other day.  Out of no where the tears just streamed down my face.  I couldn't call her.  In the busy moments of the day I forget that she is gone.  It feels like she is on an extended vacation, but surely she will come back.  Then I go to call her and my world crumbles once again.

Last night I was panic stricken because I felt like my memories were slipping away.  Why didn't I ask her to leave me one last voice mail?  Why didn't I beg her to write down all of her thoughts these last eight months? I saw this coming; why wasn't I more prepared?

So I will continue to slowly parent myself in this new normal.  I will always have my memories, and they will be enough.  The pain will ease and the tears won't always come so easily.  One day I will be going through my routine and I won't have so many people telling me that they are sorry for my loss.  At some point it won't sting so badly when they ask for you to think about your prayer requests at church and you want to tell God to go stuff it because he didn't heal your mom and that was the only prayer you wanted to come true for a long while.  One day I won't cry as I go through the mail.

But right now my heart is tender, and there is a lot of things that sting. Right now I still cry as I go through the mail and see all the donations made to the Make a Wish Foundation.  Right now this still sucks and I miss my glue.