Day 315: I Lost Ten Years and Just Found Them Tonight

I had a hard time today. The day started out well enough and I managed to accomplish everything on my list and stay in good spirits for the most part, but there was a sadness I couldn’t shake. An indulgent moment of nostalgia suddenly led to heartbreak over my Mother. It’s so funny how it happens, I’m thinking about a restaurant we went to when I was a kid and wandering what I used to order. I’ll ask Mom, I think, and then realize I can’t. In fact, I can’t ever ask her anything ever again. This sadness has hung over me all day and while it’s not the active feeling of loss that one experiences in the immediate aftermath of a loss, it hovers so no matter how great your day is otherwise, it never lets you completely move past it. Oddly enough, today is also my Mother-in-law’s birthday which I forgot about, despite being fully aware just two days ago.

I’m beginning to see a pattern in this strange forgetfulness. I have always remembered dates and numbers that were meaningful. I still remember the phone numbers of my two childhood best friends. There wasn’t a date I didn’t remember and I sent cards for everyone’s birthdays. These days I don’t remember my own wedding anniversary. To recall the husband’s birthday I have to think “July 4th, add a month.” Just ask any friend or Jeff’s family when I’ve ever remembered their birthdays and you’re likely to get a blank stare. Don’t even ask about Mother’s or even Father’s Day, they don’t exist for me.

Tonight, after the husband mentioned he’d called his Mom for her birthday and I realize that despite discussing her gift in depth two days ago I had no inkling today is her birthday I started to put some things together. Life stopped for me when she died. I changed where I lived, what I did, who my friends were, and who I was. I don’t like the person I became in many ways and in others I am grateful because it put me on the path to who I am today. Despite a gained maturity, it seems I lost more than just my Mom, I lost an ability to truly care about those in my life. It enabled me to hurt a friend, forget important dates, and pursue some pretty destructive tangents. I was hurt and distraught and therefore I could do whatever I wanted.

Before tonight I thought I had outgrown, or at least outlived, the selfish and destructive tendencies that her death brought set off in me. I did not realize that I still clung to that loss as an excuse to not be active in my life. It is not okay that I ignore things that are important in the lives of others because I experienced something awful. Tonight I realize that in a way my life has still been on hold. I am still waiting for Mom to remind me that it’s Grams’ birthday or to send a gift for so and so’s birth announcement. She died and I’m still waiting to be “Mom’d.” It’s going to be Mother’s Day soon and as much as I want to forget that day, I will call my Mother-in-law, I will wish all my friends who are Moms well and I will make an effort to not feel sorry for myself.

Life didn’t stop for everyone and it can’t stop for me either. I will always feel sad, there will always be days like today, but I think I’ve experienced an epiphany. Those dates I cannot seem to commit to memory are victims of a future I don’t want to be living. As long as I stay away from my hometown I let myself pretend the truth isn’t real. I’m just away from home, everything is okay. But it’s not and I guess I’m not either. My inability to commit dates and events to memory is evidence that a part of me stopped when she died. Your birthdays matter, I did get married, friends have had children and Mother’s Day exists for the rest of the world. I didn’t know I was still hiding, but I hope that now that reality has found me, I’ll be able to find myself.