unsettling

Week 31

I was never Mom’s “mini-me” and I wonder if she resented that.

Sure, I look like her… but we’re definitely not twins.

After three boys, maybe she wanted a daughter just like her… but I wasn’t.

On my birthdays, she used to tell me that when she found out I was a girl she hoped I would have blue eyes. Maybe that’s true. Maybe it wasn’t.

I’ve always thought I was the perfect 50/50 blend of both my parents in both looks and personality. We talked about it a lot — me and my parents — I thought we all liked me that way. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she said it with resentment. I don’t know.

She loved doing makeup, I didn’t. She wanted me to have her curly hair too — she tried to make mine curl like hers, but it never really did. She’d often do my hair and makeup when I went to her house, even as an adult.

I think she wanted me to be just like her, and I wasn’t, and I think that hurt her.

That leaves me feeling… guilty? A little sick? Not great.

Sure, it’s all speculative thinking. Perhaps you’ll say I shouldn’t waste my time on thoughts like these, and maybe you’re right… but the thoughts still generate.

Day 11

When my eyes open in the morning, a fresh onset of “this is life now” sets in and burrows sorrow deeper and deeper into my soul. Heaviness surrounds me in the black room and my tired eyes do not search for light, they simply stare at the ceiling, wishing my Mom was still here. Deep breath. The pain accompanies me every moment, but the dark quiet incubates it. Here, it’s raw and vulnerable and sad.

I’ve never been very good about jumping out of the bed and getting ready for the day, but now getting out of bed requires much more effort than simply awakening from a sleepy stupor.

We went to the zoo today, which I suppose is good, but I have very little interest in doing much right now. Exhaustion has set in – at first I was not sleeping, now I am sleeping at night and napping during the day. No matter what time or where I sleep, persistent dreams come alive. I am so out of sorts.

Daily Tip for Communicating with a Person in Mourning

I love your daily messages. Some via text, some via instant messenger, some commenting on these posts. I have not responded much to them, but I do appreciate them. Facebook comments are the easiest [quickest, really] to read right now, but I like the instant messages / texts too. I am just a little slower at opening those. Your messages help. I like reading about your experience and it feels validating and comforting to see your support, prayers, and encouragement.