The Past Twelve Months

Can it already be a year?  A whole twelve months since my mother died?  This Thursday, November 17, 2011, will mark the one year anniversary of her death.  At times it seems like it was just yesterday and at other times it feels like it was one hundred years ago.  I can't decide which hurts more.

I have learned some things in the past year, I'd like to share them with you.

1) Death sucks.  No, it really does.  God did not intend for us to die, so when it touches your life it hurts, it hurts like nothing you have ever felt before.

2) I really, really, really loved (love?) my mother.  I didn't realize what an important roll she still played in my life until she was gone.   After all, I am all grown up and she had moved out of state more than fifteen years ago.  How much had I needed her?  Far more than I ever imagined.  So many times, in the last year, I have wanted to call her and talk to her about something.

3) I've learned that it really is all about the gospel.  My only comfort in life, and death, is the knowledge that I belong to my Heavenly Father whose Son paid the penalty for my sin on the cross, and in so doing has secured for me a place in Heaven, for all eternity.  In my darkest moments this past year, God was there...He held me up, He let me cry on His shoulder, He never stopped loving me.

4) I've learned that my mother believed the above too.  And I am convinced I will see her again one day.

5) If I didn't know this already, my husband is an amazing man.  He has held me when I've needed to cry and given me the space when I have needed to be alone. He has been instrumental in my grieving.  When others close to me have said that I need to "move on," and have caused me to doubt my sanity, he reassured me that grief is a personal journey and I was right where I should be. I love him more today than I did twelve months ago.

It has been a very hard year.  I am weary of this journey and look forward to brighter tomorrows.  Rest in peace Mom, I love you.

Today

Today, one year ago, was the last time I saw my mother alive.  There really is nothing to add to this statement.  Just that it hurts today as much as it did that day.  That day I knew, really knew, that I would never see her alive again.  I sat down next to her on the couch and hugged her frail body.  I hugged as tightly as I could without hurting her.  Before she let go of me, Mom said, with emphasis, "I love you *SO* much."  Mom knew, too, that she would never see me or my daughter again.

I drove away that day with such a pain in my heart.  How I loved, love, her.  How I miss her.