what to say

people tell me that they struggle with what to say to me. ironically, just saying that is enough.

at dinner tonight, my friend hilary said that she does not believe that things like this are "meant to be." and i agree. i don't think that "everything happens for a reason" either.

i only believe that there are lessons in everything.

i'm not a touchy person. you could pretty much say anything to me and i would be okay with it. i understand where people are coming from when they say "it's probably for the best, she was suffering so much." and though my soul is responding with "having her here, healthy, would be for the best," my mind understands their sentiment. lord knows i was begging god to take her that last night.

and when my friends with living mothers tell me that they can't imagine how i am feeling...i have a little flash of relief. because i love them and i don't want them to understand how i feel for as long as possible.

i was having lunch with a good friend in early february. she commented that i seemed to be doing okay and that it appeared that i had gotten some "closure."

and i explained that "closure" is a myth. that my life is now forever divided into two parts "while she was alive" and "after i lost her" and that the "after" part doesn't end until i end.

there is a little bit of relief in that. that the grief has time to spread out so i don't drown in it right now.

right now, my biggest wish is to get some time between me and the past few months. when i look back, the sickness and dying is so huge that i can't see past it. i want some distance so it will appear smaller and so i can begin to see past it to the things that came before it. the good and sweet things.

buzzy saw her in a dream a few weeks ago. and maura sent me these two e-mails this week:

"subject: She's a snuggle bunny...

I finally dreamt about her last night. In the dream I got home from my trip to TN to find mummy standing in the kitchen. I asked her what she was doing here and she said that she had just gotten back from spending a week in the hospital. So, I told her that she should have told me she was going to be in the hospital and I would have postponed my trip. Then the next thing I knew she was holding missymoo so that she was facing forward and rubbing her cheek to missymoo's cheek, and missymoo was looking up at mummy with pure contentment.

That's all I remember. I hope there's a "next time" I dream about her and that I remember to hug her.

much love,
moo"

and then:

"subject: she came back this morning

I had another dream about mummy this morning and got the hug i've been needing from her. Then I told her that she needed to visit you because you really need her too. She said she'd go see you tomorrow.

You have to tell me if you dream about her tomorrow."

but you have to sleep to dream.


if someone you care for loses someone, don't worry about what to say. just say something. "i'm sorry" is enough. while it may seem inadequate to you, it really helps.

my friend lee articulated the situation incredibly well when her mom died. she said that she couldn't understand how the world could still be turning.

because as i said a few days ago, my outsides look normal, but my insides are ripped apart. and i feel so disconnected.

and "i'm sorry" is enough to tell me that you really can see me. and with those words, any words, you acknowledge the catastrophe hidden inside me.
and that is very meaningful.