This time last year is when it all started unraveling. Mom was hospitalized on Christmas day. We had diagnoses of pneumonia, bronchitis, the flu, and finally "just" a COPD exacerbation. It boiled down to, they didn't know. Then in February - nearly four years to the day - devastating news. She had lung cancer, again. Not a reoccurrence, a new one.
And of course, life happened. And because life happened, so did death.
So, here I sit two days before a new year. A little sad. A lot reflective. Still tasked with trying to get used to my "new normal." I hate that phrase by the way. It's dumb. It does nothing to help. Frankly, hearing it is slightly irritating.
My mother had me for 42 years and 10 months. I had her my whole life. This will be my first full year without her. It's just a weird feeling.
I'll be fine. As much as we all feel we won't make it through the initial grief, we do. Actually, if we're honest, we just get used to it. You don't really get over it. It doesn't just magically get better. It never really goes away. You just get used to it.
Do you remember when you were little and you had a favorite shirt? Then you wore it and wore it and wore it. It kind of smelled funny, maybe even got a little itchy. (Don't lie, you had one. Or lucky socks, a blanket, something.) But you didn't notice because you wore it EVERY day and you got used to it.
I think we wear our grief the exact same way. It might be smelly, itchy, uncomfortable, etc but after a while, you just. get. used. to. it. It still totally sucks, you just don't notice it all the time anymore because you. just. get. used. to. it.
So, I think I'm "there." Sometimes it happens faster than we think. Sometimes we don't even realize that we've gotten used to it. So, on the cusp of this new year, I'm used to her being gone. It doesn't feel good, but at least I feel.
So, 2015, here I come. Memories in my mind, love in my heart, and the realization that God is nowhere near done with me yet.
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