The acuteness of "missing Mom" has been gradually replaced by a feeling of remembering not only Mom, but Dad as well, as life moves on in a forward direction.
I heard myself speak of Mom and Mom alone for a very long time after she died. I longed for the day when those thoughts of Mom would be interspersed generously with thoughts of both Mom and Dad.
Dad died 31 years ago. He suffered brain damage from a massive heart attack almost five years before he died. We lost Dad so gradually (even though in retrospect, I now realize we lost "Dad" the moment he had his heart attack) that I never experienced the acuteness of missing him.
When he had his heart attack, my marriage was falling into a state of disrepair. I remember Mom and I talking of my marriage over Dad as we wondered about his prognosis and waited for him to wake up. I shake my head at the thought of that memory. I was 22 years old. I didn't know better. I do now.
When Dad died, it was days after I walked away from my marriage for the third and final time. Our separation was nasty and thoughts of walking forward from there superseded any other thoughts. We had lost the essence of Dad five years prior so part of this is understandable.
The only time I felt the reality of losing Dad was while he was still living and breathing. But not "Dad" any more. It was a surreal way to feel the loss of a parent. I didn't learn what I needed to know about love and loss.
I never felt like I fully honored Dad in the way he deserved to be honored. As the years unfolded, I felt, thought and honored Dad in my own way.
Then came the time when facing Mom's mortality became a reality. Mom was a strong, hearty and healthy soul until a time came when her health started to change. She rebounded each and every time but in the middle of those times, my heart ached with the knowledge that she wasn't going to live forever.
I mourned the loss of Mom before she died. I knew I would want to know I had done all I could do and was who I needed to be when Mom's time came. I may have become hyper aware of this eventual reality as I unconsciously created a life where Mom was my main focus.
My world became smaller so when Mom died and eventually all the loose ends of her life were tied up, I didn't have a life beyond Mom waiting for me. Yes, I had a few jobs, my children, good friends and a good life. But my passion for living was gone.
I spoke of Mom incessantly after she died. I kept her alive and well in my day to day thoughts. I missed her, I missed going to see her, I missed who she was to me. I lost a huge part of my life when she died and it was so much harder than I expected it to be.
It was hard because I really didn't care if I moved out of and beyond that phase. It was a sad day when I missed missing her.
Life moved on and carried me along with it. Bit by bit, I started looking outside my small little bubble and tentatively stepped back into life as I once knew it. I did a little gallivanting and took flight to see friends and do new things. I knew I turned a corner when I made plans, followed through on them, found myself in a different province visiting an old friend and I was astounded when I heard myself say "I actually looked forward to this trip!"
It was a first step of several. I finally found my wings somewhere up in the sky as I flew off to here, there and another place. I was finding my way back.
Except "back" was still a rather illusive destination. All I knew for sure is that home was where my heart was. I moved forward from there.
Life has gotten a little bigger than it once was. I'm still a little stingy with my time and energy but I'm involved in living my life. This is a good thing.
This house renovation was a gift in so many ways.
Financially, it was a gift from Mom and Dad. Dad, who worked so hard and invested so wisely during his 58 years here on earth, that Mom not only never had to worry about her financial state of affairs BUT she had an excess left over at the end of her days. Dad's work, along with Mom's ability to live on these funds wisely left us with a final gift from both of them.
I found it very hard to spend this money. I did nothing in haste. I pretended these funds didn't exist and didn't change my way of life. Until I went floor shopping with my son...
That was the beginning. As this renovation took on a life of its own, I felt Mom and Dad's presence within me every step of the way. Not one or the other. Both.
I wish I could sit across the table and share my morning coffee with them, but I can't. What I can do, is honor their memory, carry a piece of them within me, be grateful for every gift they gave me and live a good, honorable and full life.
Thanks, Mom and Dad. You have given us the basis for a very good story.
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