Three years... and a month

Time flies... and drags.

Three years, one month, and a few days ago, my mother died.

I have had a lot going on over the last three years. Way too much responsibility and stress. It seems like one thing gets fixed and two more rear up.

I suppose that this must be delayed grief. Sure, when she passed away I cried. I picked up the phone to call her a dozen times. I delayed and delayed going through her things, and fixing up the house so it could be sold. All the things people do when they don't want to believe their mother isn't coming back.

After all that was finished, and the estate was closed out, I thought I was done. Apparently, I am not. Lately I find myself longing to speak to her. I miss her. I want to hug her and hold her hand. Wash her hair and polish her fingernails.

I clearly see in my mind the last time I was with her. I am glad that I got to say goodbye, but I almost wish I had not gotten there when I did. My final memory of her is not a good one. She was lying in a hospital bed staring blindly at the ceiling, gasping for breath. I held her hand and told her that I loved her. I don't think she heard me. I don't know. Maybe she did. I was the last of her children to arrive at the hospital, and she died five minutes after I left her. I can still hear her breathing, her body desperately struggling to live. I have awful dreams about it. I have a hard time sleeping for days after I have that dream.

I find myself filled with remorse for not recognizing that in her later years, after most of her friends had died, that she was lonely. We are so busy all the time, and our work is exhausting, and it was easy for me to think that my brother and sister were taking care of her. They were taking care of her, but they were not enough. I realize now that she needed more. I should have done more. I suspect much of why I miss her so much now is guilt and regret. I usually don't engage in either of these. I think they are wasted emotions. I try to live in a way that doesn't leave room for that type of thing. Now suddenly in the last few weeks, they are blooming like an ugly flower. Ugh. I suppose this is one of the stages of grief delayed. Walled off since she died, and buried under responsibility.

I will work through this. I just miss her...still.