It's surely been a while since I shared anything on this blog. 2020 was such a hard year. The virus raged and hundreds of thousands of Americans died from it. Mama and Daddy both had to go into a nursing home, temporarily we thought, for physical therapy and rehab. Mama's legs and Daddy's arm, after he fell and broke it in July. Mama's legs never got better and she got worse. She passed away September 21st and my whole world collapsed. It's hard to describe unless you're there, how it feels to have the ground snatched out from under you, to lose your anchor and just be drifting along, untethered and lost.
Mama had been sick for a long, long time and still, here three and a half months later, it's still hard to believe she's gone. At the beginning, I felt soooo connected to her and now, I'm feeling her slip away and that makes me unbelievably sad. She came to me in dreams and for one entire day, I smelled roses. I knew she was RIGHT THERE. I listen to her voicemails on my phone and watch videos of her to keep her ALIVE with me but I still feel her slipping away. I received a call today from the folks who made the slab for her grave. It's there now, ready for me to go look at and approve. I dread it. I don't want to see it. I'm the one who designed it and decided that she would have three little butterflies to represent my sister and brother and me on one corner and one hummingbird to represent Daddy on the other. To see it, all hard and stony and cold, I don't know if I want to. Ami and I took her flowers in the fall and a Christmas tree that stayed lit and her beloved poinsettia last month and we've been to visit her grave every other weekend, after we visit Daddy. Through the window, talking to him with a baby monitor because of COVID. We take him lunch and snacks and goodies and whatever he thinks to ask for. We are trying so hard to get through this. We tried so hard to protect him from the virus but when they tested him January 3rd, he had it. He's positive. So far so good, though. We call him every day, Ami and I do, and we stay in constant contact with the staff regarding his care. One of the last things Mama said to me was, "take care of Daddy". I'm trying, Mama. I'm trying.
The tears still come so easily. I had a mini breakdown just before Christmas. Sitting on the floor of our garage, going through her Christmas wrapping paper, bags and boxes. I had decorated our tree this year with nothing but her decorations and Larry and I clipped on family photos here and there as well. It was a pretty tree. One that was so much Mama that it hurt my heart to look at it some days.
NOBODY was ever as interested in me or what was going on in my life as my mama was. She was always so proud of my accomplishments and ready to hold me if I needed to cry over a broken heart or some trivial disappointment. The memories are sharp right now. Little small things that I'd buried years ago are rushing back to me now and I'm constantly saying, "my mama used to..." or "my mama always said...". Although she has left this world, she is STILL my mama. I am still her daughter. That relationship is eternal. I hold the words she said to me and the things she taught me so very close. Ami and I both wanted to keep her with us through the holidays so we made her amazing cornbread dressing and I made her Martha Washington candy that she made for us every single Christmas. I even made individual loaves of her ice box fruitcake and gave it to our neighbors. It was a small way to keep her here with us and at times, I felt her presence with me in the kitchen. Once I even thought to call her and ask her how long that fruitcake could keep in the fridge. It's painful the places your brain goes sometimes.
Losing your mama is a heartbreak like no other. It feels like your heart is shattered into a bazillion little pieces. How do you go on LIVING without your mama?? Do you even want to live in world that she's not in???
Like I mentioned earlier, Mama was sick for a long time but 2020 was just unbelievably difficult for her. I prayed to God constantly and I told Him, "if You want to take my mama, I won't be mad at You" and I wasn't. I wouldn't wish her back here in the shape she was in. Life was not good for her. She couldn't do the things she wanted to, she couldn't take care of herself, Daddy or us. When she got to where she couldn't walk, I think she just gave up.
So we are left with the broken pieces of Mama. A lifetime of memories, photographs, a few voicemails and videos. I know she's still with me but I wish I could feel it as strongly as I did at first. I'm worried that one day, she'll just be gone.
Don't leave me, Mama. Come see me and bring some roses.
