(ab)normal

it’s been 50 days since mom died. and, i’m now 50 years old. oh, and, look, it’s this blog’s 22nd anniversary. i didn’t even plan to post today. how coincidental.

i don’t even know what to say or where to start. my mom is dead. how the fuck am i supposed to handle that? the person who loved me most in this world is gone. forever. no one will ever love me that way again. that’s not even hyperbole. just fact.

i am so lucky to have been loved and wanted by my mother. so many people i know have such complicated relationships with their parents. i cherish the knowledge of true, unwavering care and support of me through my entire life.

it’s such a momentous loss i’m constantly astounded that i’m still breathing and somehow managing to get up every morning to do normal life things.

i feel guilty for continuing to exist without her. i feel guilty for being happy sometimes. i feel guilty for not seeing her often enough. i feel guilty for the moments i’ve forgotten she’s gone.

i’m angry that she never got a cpap machine to help her breathe better. i’m angry that she didn’t live to 100 like she promised me she would. i’m angry that she didn’t get the thyroid tumor removed. i’m angry that just a week before she died, she told me she was “healthy as a horse”. i’m angry that she just dropped dead. i’m angry that people ask me how i am – my mom is dead. i’m not okay.

i’m thankful she didn’t have a long, lingering decline. i’m thankful she doesn’t have to suffer through another summer heat wave. i’m thankful i knew true unconditional love. i’m thankful that she was living her life up until her last moments. i’m thankful that i got to share her with my friends. i’m thankful for all the lessons and adventures i got to experience thanks to her.

i feel numb and broken and very apart from the world. everything is too loud or rough or heavy to manage. i don’t mind, though. i don’t want to feel normal.

she’d hate this photo. she hated all photos of her. i love it because that’s a genuine smile right there.