From time to time, I imagine what it would be like once my parents are no longer here. Especially my mom… Why would I do that? There are endless beautiful thoughts that we could and should have every day… but these thoughts and fears sneak it. And this fear is strong! I can’t hold on to it for too long because it hurts me, physically, and it seems too far away. And if it’s not, I push it further away. Is that normal? Those who have lost someone close know that it’s not a far-fetched idea… that it can happen any day; that you’re never prepared for what’s about to “hit you”, that your time, and everyone’s time here on earth is limited. Which is comforting in a way.
It’s a random Saturday night, I just checked my phone contacts, and my mom stood out – her profile picture in which she wears her sunhat. The last time we saw each other, we were in San Francisco when Germany won the soccer world cup. What a weekend! I imagine touching her hair and laughing with her. We get coffee and champagne from the buffet, cheer in the hotel room, talk in the car. And I get incredibly sad when I think about “what if”, “what are you going to do when”… because it’s not an “if”, it’s a “when”, like for all of us. She’s courageous, always has been, and always pulled through… with class. She’s a fighter, an enjoyer and someone you want to be around.
I don’t want to hold on to the thought that she could be gone at some point, but it’s so strong. A friend of mine recently “lost” her mother due to an illness. I have a very healthy mom, or one who takes care of her manageable illnesses/complaints/”uncomforts” (I don’t think it’s a word, but I’ll make it one) and she’s conscious of herself. Not that my friend’s mom wasn’t… but it’s a thought that helps.
I felt the need to write some of this down while she can still read it. I know she will be with me when she’s in another dimension physically , but the rituals and habits and reassurance of her simply being here will be a great adjustment, which I’m not ready for now and never will be in the future. It’s always too soon. And I’d like to stop thinking about it right now.
Whenever I have a situation on my hands where I’m not sure what to do (I’m not good with decision as it is, her opinion matters the world to me… and I think she knows it), I imagine her sitting on my right shoulder and giving me her 2 cents. At first, I don’t care much, “of course, you’re my mom, you HAVE to say that”, “great, thanks, mom, doesn’t help…” and “I really wish I didn’t know about this” don’t help much. But they do. Just knowing that you have someone in your life who has always cared about you, taken care of you, and makes sure that everything aligns for you, is beyond priceless.
Although with all the fights we’ve had, all the emotional roller coasters I’ve put her, my family, and myself through in general during my teenager years (during that time, it was mutual 😉 ), the times she has simply been there, be it shopping for shoes or clothing, sitting on the couch and playing Ipad games, writing down recipes while I closely watch her cook, ranting about the latest TV show or talking about the past, I can never repay her. She, at one point in her life, made the decision to have me and care for me for the rest of her life… which is a pretty long time. So, counting the days and years, she has had more time with me consciously than I’ve had with her. Not fair!
Mom, if you’re reading this, now and at any point in the future: You know all the situations we’ve gone through; I know we’ve never betrayed one another and you’re the rock in my life that keeps me going when all else fails. Thank you! I am simply grateful.
The sunhat will always be my symbol for you! I can’t wait for the concert in May when I finally get to see you again. Until then, I look forward to our weekly talks. They keep me going! I miss and love you.