It’s been two years since I woke to a day without my mom. Two years since that jolt of knowing her journey here was over and the days of quietly holding her hand had ended.
It’s been two years, but my heart and head are still at odds.
I can’t believe she’s gone. I feel that reverberate in my bones then, close on its heels, Mom was finally released from her pain and is in heaven…it seems other people take comfort in that when their loved ones die, but I don’t feel overwhelming joy when I say it. Maybe that makes me a bad Christian. Maybe it makes me conflicted. Maybe it just means I miss my mom. Either way it leads me back to I can’t believe she’s gone.
Moments still take my breath away. That scene in the movie Wonder – the one where flashbacks with grandma reveal how close the granddaughter felt to her – knocked me off my feet. I found myself frozen in the theater, acutely aware of Bear beside me and the ache I feel when I think of her and my mom.
It’s been two years, but it feels like just yesterday.