So many thoughts run though my mind, some in sentence fragments and others that defy words. What do we do with those thoughts we can't organize into words? There is a randomness that defies.
My mom passed less than a month ago, I thought I had time. Time to figure it out, time to take care of her, time to burn, time to spare. But still death ripped her from me. I couldn't protect her when complications from a bump on the head would take her life.
My cousin's wife Marjory, who is dying from cancer, asked me, "you were ready for it right?" The question threw me, and I said no. At 81 and in fragile health, I'm wasn't sure why I wasn't prepared emotionally, but I wasn't. When she asked me that question I hesitated and the only explanation I had was that I was so busy being positive, I never truly saw my life without my mom in it. Oh sure, on occasionally I would allow myself to dwell on it, but after a moment of tears, I would shake it off. No, me in a world without my sweet mom was never truly visualized.
This woman I took for granted, as we all do as daughters, had touched so many lives in so many ways. A dance teacher for 30 years, a 4H leader for perhaps a decade, a never ending source for love and inspiration to all that came in contact with her. She left a legacy of love with her good works. What do you say to women who tell you your mom was like a second mother to them?
A week from today, I'll have an empty nest. A nest that must be sold and the onerous task of liquidating our collective possessions.
There is so much I want to share about her life and her passions and I think as I begin my next chapter in life, the words will come to me.