ClobberBlog | Mormonism, Evangelical Christianity

I know this post is emo, but it’s my blog. You don’t like it, click somewhere else.

Four days since my mother died now. I’ve been at my father’s house, cleaning, packing and trying to get things ready for the memorial service this weekend. Going through Mom’s things has been painful, as well as tedious. She had a lot of junk. The woman owned about a million and one pig figurines and stupid knick-knacks. I always told her they were stupid, but she just kept collecting them, and part of me loved her for sticking to what she loved. We don’t want to throw any of it away because it’s all we have left of her, but at the same time, who wants this stuff?

My impulses have yet to accept the fact that Mom’s dead. One part of my brain keeps telling me I ought to talk to Mom about this or that, and the other part of my brain tells the first part it’s retarded. When I’m at my apartment I keep wanting to pick up the phone and call her, and when I’m at Dad’s house I keep wanting to go to her bedroom and talk to her. I keep thinking, “Hmm, I should ask Mom where she puts the Halloween decorations” or “Oh, I’ve gotta show this to Mom.” It just keeps hitting me over and over again. Talk to Mom, no stupid, you can’t.

It’s not even that I can’t talk to her right now that bothers me. It’s that this is permanent. I won’t wake up tomorrow and get to talk to her, tomorrow she’ll be just as dead as she is today, and the day after that, and the day after that. If all goes well I will live another 55-70 years, and every day I spend will be just as Mom-less as the last four days have been. The part of my life where I’m my mother’s daughter is over and it’s never coming back.

I’d like to write more. I’d like to write happier things. But when I started writing this post, I was just a grieving woman looking for a distraction. And now I’m a grieving tired woman, and my new distraction is sleep.