Sunday was Mother’s Day, and let me tell you that was a hard day!

It’s been five months since I walked into my mom’s room while she was watching TV to find her already with Jesus, though for two more hours we hoped and prayed for a miracle. Five months of her gone, and I just figured out that I have been in that denial stage they talk about. Come to find out it’s not thinking she didn’t die, it’s being in that I-can’t-believe-she-died thing. The shock alone of the loss, then the loss itself, felt so big I equated it to a large triangle trying to fit through a circle. Now that it’s getting to a place where I can sort of squish it through some, it’s such a grody feeling. I had already put on 20 pounds through the emotional transition back from Guatemala, but then we hit the season of the cookie. Lots of cookies came through our house after she passed. It hasn’t calmed down, though, and 20 more pounds later, I recognized I was dissociating with my body and I needed help.

This prompted me, a year after graduating from therapy, to reach out to the therapist who walked me through my breakdown to see if she could help me with this one. She’s taught me how to be present in my body, not disassociate, and manage my feelings. Having a lot of emotions doesn’t mean you properly know how to manage them, and she’s been extremely helpful in guiding me through ways to better manage them. I highly recommend finding a person to talk to, a professional is what I needed, but no matter who the trusted person you choose is; talking about your crap changes it from crap to fertalizer.

Personally, I don’t find an advantage in taking myself to the lowest parts of the grief of this. I cry, I know I’m grieving, I know five months to 48 years with my mom in my life is nothing, but I want to so badly to be on the other side of this. It’s so deep, and it’s complicated in so many ways. I am just starting to truly miss her, and that triangle of grief pushing through this circle hole hurts. But letting all those emotions crash into me and sweep me up in their debris doesn’t feel like it adds for me. I don’t pull up out of that ocean of grief and think, “Whew, that was rough, but I needed to go through that one.” NO, I’d rather stand on the side, acknowledge its power in my life, give it the respect it needs for a bit, and then go back to the shelter.

I learned also that this event will mark time going forward. This desire I have to always “get through” or “get over” something is unrealistic and adds this judged pressure inside, telling me I shouldn’t be feeling this way because I’m “getting through it.” It led me to near ruin before, I don’t have the emotional time or space to allow it to do it again. So with my mom, I will learn to mark the time before she died and after she died.

It’s so permanent. Such a drastic and complete change in life…when she was alive here versus now that she isn’t. Just writing that truth stings my eyes with hot tears and creates this ache inside me that feels almost unfair, maybe? Now, I’m learning how to do life this way, to set timers to allow myself the time I need to cry and feel completely over all life can offer, set work goals to keep the projects I was working on before, moving along. I share this vulnerability openly because it’s what's in my hands to offer.

I didn’t feel God too closely this week. I kept Him at the forefront of my mind, though. What I feel is often contrary to the truth when it comes to the proximity of the Father, but I kept the truth over the feelings. The last couple of days, there were moments when the grief would hit, and I felt like I was going to have a panic attack because there was nowhere to run to avoid the intensity of the pain. I did consider ways to numb the pain, but knew it was all counterfeit, so I embraced it and kept my words very clear. “The joy of the Lord is my strength…” I spoke about the deep sadness and grief over and over again. I only had to get through the harder days until I was on the other side of Sunday. And here we are, writing words of survival and comfort the day after. Another first without her survived!

Loss is hard, even with an eternal hope; grief is a way bigger beast than I ever expected, and it just keeps revealing different faces of itself. I am grateful for my crew, social media when it’s supportive and wonderful, for the tears that have finally started to fall, and knowing that they will again stop falling as frequently…one day.

We are all in this. We all feel this, and death is a great equalizer. I know many have lost parents, friends, siblings, and lovers. It is such a permanent feeling on this side, but I said it at my mom’s service, and I’ll remind us here too…I know my mom got to heaven, and when I daydream about it, I hear her saying, “I had no idea.” All the glory and wonder of being with the creator that fully, she didn’t have any idea, and even though I (possibly arrogantly) think I do, I find such great comfort in knowing that for her.