Two Years Past….I Miss You Mom!

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It’s been two years since she left us.
Two years since I got the call.
Two years spent lost inside myself,
In a sea of pain, struggling against each wave.
Hoping for a moment of peace.

I’ve cried inconsolably.
Lost friends. Made friends.
Days spent staring at four walls.
Nights spent in a dreamless haze wondering,
“Could this be real?”

Mistakes. I’ve made so many.
Hoping she’d somehow come,
And set me straight again.
To have her scream at me.
To hear her yell, “Stop! I love you!”

I think back to that day, that year, these nights,
And wonder how I’ve made it through,
With most of my heart torn away.
I’ve become sensitive,
Each slight an open wound.

I wish I could say more happy things.
I wish I could not feel the pain.
I wish I could live each day, as she would want me to,
But right now, I just pull through,
And to me, that is victory.

I miss you, Mom.
You were the greatest. Are the greatest.
Today, I hold on to the love you gave me,
And ask those closest to me,
To treasure the love of a mom.

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Black Widow

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After we lost our mother we were destroyed
Our house infiltrated by the devil
Eager to break our spirit
Eager to break our fragile bond
Took what treasure she could get her chubby little hands on
Heart
Soul

My mother’s “friend”
Demonic grin
Fake saggy tits
Cellulite ass
Clutching. Grasping.
Pursed bloated lips against a wine glass
Seductive to a blind man
Still married. She got a ring. A diamond ring
They’re only “things” right?

Single White Female in my mother’s clothing
Single White Female scavenging for jewels
Vulture. Bottom feeder. Tramp
Using her musky rotten scent to entrap a weak man
Dying her hair just the right color, just like my mom’s
Sending a poor fragile old soldier on the hunt for gifts
Not just any gift, the “just right gift”
The right expensive gift

A house ransacked
A grave desecrated
A family destroyed
Father against son
Father against daughter
Brother against sister
All in the name of “love”

Sad the women who get away with this
Sad the women who lack values, morals or goodwill
Sad the women who destroy the pure and good
But the Devil always gets hers
Someone looking. Watching. Waiting
An Angel
A hunter
To shoot the demon where it hurts

Right. Wrong. Way.

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Life seems to be a process of letting go. Over and over and over again– and over again. I am barely growing accustomed to not having my mom around. I still miss her so much. Long for her phone call. Long really for someone who really gives a fuck about me. I don’t mean to be crass, but it’s true. My mom. Moms in general. Really are, for the most part, the ones who really care about what happens to us on a daily basis.

So, in an attempt to be a good daughter, I have tried to keep the little family I have together. But to be crass again, they are assholes. Self-centered shits. Some therapists say, whatever you think of others, may be what you think of yourself. Well, that may be true, I am an asshole and a shit and sometimes a big murky pond of diarrhea, but you know what, I, at least try to care, or pretend to.

This past month has been yet another of separation. I see my therapist on a weekly basis. Sometimes, I think it’s good; other times I think it’s bad. But, I hope for the most part it’s good. Recently, in one of our sessions I came to the realization that my objective to keep the family together – in writer terms—has been in the “right-wrong-way”. At least that’s what we call it when our protagonist/hero, is trying to resolve their objective with proper intention and bad thinking coupled with some bad actions.

What have I been doing?

No. No. Not sleeping with another married man, but trying to salvage my relationship with my brother. How have I been accomplishing this you ask? Well. Emails, texts, phone calls. Reminders of our youth. Nostalgia. Words. Lots of them. Recently, all he has been able to say to me is, “the only thing we have in common is that we came from the same parents.”

OUCH. What a shit! Right?

So. I’ve resolved to do as he and my stepfather do and (yes, we don’t share the same father, but I guess he forgot that, I have no relationship with said biological dad either— another shit, right?), anyway, I have resolved NOT to give chase. I’ve resolved not to beg my object of affection, my dear brother, to be a part of my life, instead, I am releasing him while leaving the door open in case he wants to come through again. Life hurts, but begging is a form of self-flagellation I don’t need to participate in anymore.

I ‘m learning that family isn’t a blood relationship; it is a bond between two people or clan of people who want you in their lives. Who care about you. Who love you. This is all I want, and let me tell you, it’s liberating. Maybe, now, romantically I will call the right one in, now that I am no longer on the right, wrong way.

It’s the little things….

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I have this calendar hung on my wall from 2012, it’s theme is “How Much I Love Being Your Mother”– my mother gave it to me and I never take it down.  She passed in January of 2013. In it, is documentation of her trips to the hospital that year.

How could I not have seen it coming?  It’s sad to lose a mother and my mother was a great mother.  Funny how the little things moms give us, amount to so much.

That November, I distinctly remember feeling so utterly disappointed, displeased, shocked by my brother.  My mother had brought up that she would need a kidney transplant to my brother.  He had the audacity to say, “Mom, I can’t.  Because of my anxiety.  I don’t think I could handle a transplant.”  Then, my mother asked me, and I said, “Yes.”  My mom asked, “Are you sure?”  My answer was, “Yes.  Now if you ask if I want you or me to get operated, then, no.  But if it means having you around a lot longer, so you can finally eat some of the things you like.  Then absolutely, YES!”

What saddens me about my brother or the situation, is that it wasn’t me and my brother going at it on who would give the kidney, in my mind we should have been fighting for the honor.  But he so easily backed out.   I was scared, but ready, and he was okay to say, “No.”

Now, as I look at the calendar, I’m taken back to that time.  Telling her over Thanksgiving that she needs to get better, that we need to get her better, that we need to get the kidney thing going, because the only reason I ever visited home, was for her.  It was true.I miss her.  As I look at this calendar, it is a reminder of how limited our time is, of how limited her time was, for the sake of not ending on a platitude, it is a reminder that life is not what we do, but who we “do” it with.

I miss you, Mom. Thank you, for all the little things.

Ego and grief and the spirit.

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Recently, in my time of introspection I’ve had an awareness, that there is more at work in my life than simply grieving the death of my mother.  Yes.  My mom is no longer her, but I am becoming more aware of her spirit.  Although I cannot see, feel, touch her.  I know she is in me.  It is undeniable.  My mother is in spirit.  And her spirit in me.

This “new” me, will be a part of her spirit.

But I’m not going to deny that I’m scared to death.  I no longer have my mother to anchor my identity.  To tell me if I am wrong or right, I can only draw from what I’ve gained from her spirit to guide me.

Ahead is a passage I found related to grieving through the ego.

Please click the link at the end of this passage if you want to read more.

1. Grieving through the Ego.

This kind of grief is found in these words: “life begins and ends here,” “life will never be the same,” “my life is over.” Although there are elements of truth to these statements, there is a limited worldview attached to them. They are statements people use to express their ego needs no longer being met due to the loss that takes away from them a part of their world.

When I hear the voice of ego grief in a profound way, I realize I am dealing with someone attached to the world of form. The ability to become abstract enough to find hope beyond this world in their relationships is challenged by the death of a loved one. In doing so, the deceased loved one becomes a pathway into the soul of those in ego grief.

2. Grieving through the Integrative process.

You may hear these words in this path to grief: “life is different,” “my loved one is in a better place,” “I will be O.K.” Do you hear how these statements reflect a sense of knowing their loved one’s body is gone, but their spirit will remain in their heart? This type of grieving allows a person to have a sense of knowing. It is a knowing that only the body is dead. The relationship with a deceased loved one remains in place. It may even be such a connection in soul that some feel closer to their loved one than when they were alive in physical form.

To be known as we are truly known is not an afterlife experience. To be fully human and fully divine is one of the best kept secrets we all pretend we are not aware of until the afterlife. There is no afterlife. We came from eternity and to eternity we return. When we let go of the notion that eternity begins at death, we are free to utilize eternal resources to help us live in the here and now.

The instant we realize we live in the world AND the world lives inside of us reveals a sense of awe. The world and our part in it have neither beginning nor an end. This integration from individual awareness to collective awareness carries within it hopes. It is the hope in knowing that all belong to an unending stream of consciousness. As humans, we have predictable stages of development indicating where we are in human maturity.

As we age, our psyche or our soul integrates its being from individual awareness to universal awareness. The journey into eternal awareness allows a sense of hope beyond the sense to withstand grief. Eternal Awareness integrates the self into the Universal knowing that the power which leads us into the world knows how to take us home.

http://www.pathintohealing.com/healingcare/grieve.htm

Wishing for my Mother’s Ghost.

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It’s been a lonely couple of weeks. I’ve spent so much time looking at mom’s pictures and ruminating on the life we’ve shared. Her last days. The last two weeks in December I spent with her. Our long talks. Thinking she was strong enough for me to leave her and continue with my life.

I’ve spent the last few days and night asking her to visit me. Be it in my dreams. My thoughts. As a ghost. I’ve been begging for a message that she is still with me. But nothing. I don’t know if this means she has already crossed over. If this is the case then she crossed over quickly and easily and maybe it’s better that she is not here.

But now I find myself wondering if there really is an afterlife. A heaven or a hell. Is this place we cross over to real? Or is it a place of hopeful imagination. A place we all hope to visit and reunite with our loved ones.

Throughout my grief I’ve consulted with three mediums. They all seem to pick up on my artistic ability particularly my writing. Two of them got my mother’s name and one of them didn’t pick up on my mother at all—but it was more of a reading than a meeting to speak to my mother. The readings weren’t amazingly accurate, although I wish they were and fueled by my mere wish to speak to my mother. To have a tie with her, now, even if she is in the spirit world. However, I’m not sure if it is real or if it exists.

Has anyone reading this post had a significant experience? If so, please share.

Isolation. Seclusion. Necessary in our passage through grief.

 

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According to Dr. Patricia Pitta one of the various stages of grief is to seclude.  Being that I am such a social creature, I was not prepared for my need to be alone, but am comforted in the fact that it is a normal part of the passage.  Ahead is what I found:

III. Conservation and the Need to Withdraw

As we journeyed first through shock and then through exposure to the loss, we are now exhausted from feeling so much psychic pain. In the next stage, withdrawal, we need to conserve what little energy we have left. Now, we welcome being alone; we fear falling apart if we continue feeling such intense emotions. We may find ourselves not wanting to return phone calls, preferring not to communicate with others.

Characteristics of this stage are:

  • Weakness
  • Fatigue
  • Great need for sleep
  • Weakened immune system
  • Helplessness
  • Feeling a loss of control

As we hibernate, we obsessively review and ruminate about the death. We question why it happened, we wonder if we could have done something to prevent it from happening.

Finally, we come to an understanding that life will never be the same as it was in the past. We start moving at this time to a realization that, without forgetting our precious memories, we will need to find new experiences and ways of perceiving life.

Main tasks of this phase are:

  • Allow yourself to withdraw. In order to grieve at this time, you need to be alone.
  • You might fear you are going crazy. Reassure yourself that you are not. It is a time of deep emotion and exhaustion.
  • Learn to conserve your energy so that you may heal from your shock and stress. Sleep more; take little naps. Nurture yourself. Do things that make you feel good (massage, baths, walks).
  • Simplify your life. Find shortcuts for everything possible.
  • If you are developing dependency behaviors (drinking, drugs), break the patterns and attitudes that are perpetuating them.
  • Allow yourself to think about your lost one—the good and bad times. Review photos or videotapes of your life with the deceased. Visually looking at your life puts it in perspective.
  • When feeling low emotionally, know that these periods will begin to get shorter and shorter.
  • If your own grief pattern doesn’t seem to follow the stages, don’t be concerned. Grieving patterns are individual.

 

Ahead is a link for more information on the grief passage:

http://www.drpatriciapitta.com/specialties/grief_bereavement.php