Time to Say Good-bye: My Cycle of Sorrow Nears Its End

On Tuesday, April 30, 2013, I will celebrate the first anniversary of my mother’s passing from this world into the next. I have allowed myself a year of “official” grieving, whatever that means; and I am now determined to “move on,” as they say. I know that there is no bright line I will cross next week, nor will my sadness be at an end; not at least until my own transition out of this world. After that, who knows?

I remember thinking last year, as I cared for her in her final weeks, final days and final hours, how cruel it seemed for her to be dying in the springtime when the cycle of life was renewing itself.  I used to love it when the Palo Verde trees showed off their small and mighty, most brilliant yellow-green flowers. They made it impossible to deny spring as they painted the Sonora desert alive in a color that forbade us from ignoring them. As they boasted their announcement of renewal, my mother was dying; deteriorating before my very eyes. And even then, I was grateful; grateful that I was there with her.

Even though recalling those days is very hard for me, I am still grateful for all that she was and all she wasn’t. I know now that my mother will always be one of the bravest people I have ever known. I haven’t always been able to appreciate how afraid and alone she was for so much of her life, and it hurts to remember the times that I felt ashamed and embarrassed because she wasn’t like other mothers. In owning those moments, however, I am able to heal. Because she always loved me anyway. Nobody ever loves you like your mom. For all of us, she was our first human connection. For my mother, I was her last human connection. How right that feels to me now.

And now I know that it really is time to move on. Not just because it’s been a year, but because I cannot honor my mother’s memory if I just curl up and die. She is often in my dreams, happy and surrounded by yellow – the color of healing, the color of the Palo Verde blossoms that I cannot bear to think about this spring for the mockery they make of my sadness.

I no longer have the option of remembering to call her more often, to send notes and cards, anything to let her know that I was thinking of her. Guilt is a wasted emotion now, and can only continue to keep me isolated away from the people I love. So, I won’t go there. I will leave the past in the past; remembering the sweetness when I want to feel happy, and remembering the lessons that I know I don’t want to repeat. And that’s all that I can do.
And it is time to get back to work now. Other than writing every day, work has been all but impossible for too long. I have spent many days just doing what I can do to take care of myself, my husband, our dog and our home – just the basics. I’ve had good days and bad days, and that won’t change. But I have changed.

My mother’s transition was the catalyst for a breakdown, and subsequent breakthrough for me -- mentally, emotionally and spiritually. For it is the breaking that enables the breaking through to a new spring, a new life, a new me.

I love and miss you every day, Mom. Thank you for loving me so much.

Time to say good-bye.