Three months. Three months today since I posted last. It is not for lack of things to say. It has been for lack of words to say them. I survived the holidays in one piece. I reveled in three weeks off of school that were much deserved after 32 straight weeks. And then January came and I started a new term with 3 classes (2 is considered full time). I'm half way through. It has been intense, but I'm surviving. But I'm writing like there is no tomorrow. Paper after paper after paper. I told Olly I feel like I'm simply out of words.
But my blog keeps calling me. It's as though it's saying, "You can write 1500 word papers, but you can't find the words to blog about your mom?". Well...yes...that's exactly how I feel. Because in all honesty, I don't know that I have any words that describe what grief is like 15 1/2 months after your mom dies. In some ways it seems like it has been so long. And then when I realize that it has only been 15 1/2 months, I realize the time has actually been quite short.
I have consciously avoided this blog. For some reason, I couldn't come here. It's odd because it was my safe haven while mom was sick and I was in the throes of grief. Now it seems sort of uncomfortable. As though I should be done coming here. As though at some point, I will just feel like there is an ending to this blog. And an ending to my grief. But I am understanding that such a time will never come. I will never stop grieving the loss of my mom. Certain things will continue to strike me at odd times and reduce me to tears without a moment's notice. I honor those times now. I don't like them. But I honor them for what they are.
The last three months have had their amazing moments, like the time my lamps came on in the middle of the night, followed by a day of the burnt out Christmas tree lights turning on randomly. Believe what you want, but I can't help but think my mom finally found my house. Whether it's true or not, I don't care. The lights were unexplainable. So was my sense that my mom was near. It was the closest I have felt to her since she died. I haven't felt it since. But it was magical at the time.
And then there is the birth of my first niece, Signa Bea, who was born on the morning of January 6th. And who looks an incredible amount like my mom. Michael and Kiersten originally were told that they were having another boy, but then half way through the pregnancy, they found out this baby was actually a girl. I can't help but wonder if mom had a hand in any of that. :-)
I just registered for my 3rd to last term towards my Bachelors degree. I know my mom would be proud of me. I just wish I could hear her tell me so. I am incredibly proud of myself and amazed that I find myself looking at Doctorate programs. Sometimes I wonder if I would have done all this if mom hadn't become sick. Would I have taken the risk? Would I have jumped in? Or did I need to do this before mom died so she knew I was going to be okay? I don't really have that answer. But I know that there isn't an ounce of me that has ever considered quitting because I am determined to power through this for mom (and for me).
So time moves on...and so does the journey of grief. And because the grief will never end...just constantly change...so will this blog I suppose. When I can find the words, I will be here. When the words don't come, I'll simply wait until they do.
