Hi Mama,
I am sorry I haven’t written in a while…. Too long, actually. I know it’s been too long because I have been feeling the weight of your absence in ways that I have not known in quite a long time but they’ve been showing up, somewhat consistently. What are these ways, you ask? Well, I’ve been hanging out with anger and fear by way of some old Amanda Classic Behaviors like, “push away and isolate”; the bullshit “I am fine!” when clearly I am not; and we can’t forget the “work too much to save money” which is code for complete and utter avoidance; and last but not least: the ever so charming, “Fuck THAT!” jumping-to-conclusions-and-assumptions-thang that I am WAY too good at.
I haven’t been my best Emotionally Intelligent self for quite a while. It’s been ebbing and flowing, but it’s still apparent. But, I sat with these behaviors and got to know them by their name: Grief. And we know grief is a big bitch who doesn’t care about what your plans are or what you’ve got going on. Nope, she’ll just snatch your fucking feet right from underneath you without warning. And it often seems to be, of late anyway, when I’ve got that good stride going on. Like, when you’re out for a run and nothing hurts; you’re not out of breath and sweet cherub babies in strollers are squealing and smiling at you, while dogs are greeting you with a paw wave, and people are smiling and saying, “Hello!” And as you smile and wave back because THIS is what it’s all about! you hit the crack in the sidewalk and biff it face first into a tree stump. Yup. Grief has been like that lately.
Undoubtedly, it’s due to many things including the jarring realization that April is a HARD month (we’ve got your favorite holiday and yours and Jen’s birthdays in rapid succession of one another) and we’re approaching TWO YEARS since you left this earth. We’re currently on day 676 (677 from when I publish this) and it isn’t easier than it was since you passed. It’s just different.
Perhaps it’s the quarantine, or all of the things I want to share with you; maybe it’s my beautiful apartment I so desperately want to entertain you in, the walks I want to take with you, the movies I want to see with you, or all of the food I want to cook for you; maybe it’s all of the things I miss about you, from your childlike wonderment and your beautiful smile to your sweet voice and your perfectly-pitched belly laugh and your big, unwavering love and your stunning soul… As I write this, it’s obviously all of the above and so much more. But it’s not like I didn’t know any of this, it’s just been extremely difficult to swallow because it is all so very real. There isn’t anything clouding my awareness of your absence anymore. The shock has worn off and I am in a headspace and heartspace that is clearer than it was capable of being since you passed on June 14th, 2018 and since I left my marriage on June 22nd, 2018.
EVERYTHING is clear and bewildering and terrifying and humbling and calm and bizarre and turbulent and beautiful and promising and exciting and unwritten.
Clearly Unwritten. Just like my fucking blog.
So here we are – me and this computer – with time on our hands and a sudden, unabashed desire to write and tell you ALL about it. These fingers have found themselves on rapid fire and it feels really fucking good. And I know you know this, I know you’re here, I know you see it all, but who would I be if I didn’t put it into words and run on sentences and tangents? Who would I be if I didn’t reflect and write and be too hard on myself throughout the process? I wouldn’t be me and I know in the deepest depths of my own stunning soul that neither of us want that or will allow that.
So, I am back, Mom. I am back to write it out and tell you (and anyone else who is interested in reading) all about it. Because what good are these stories and thoughts and revelations if they’re just sitting tight in this mind of mine? There are way too many things swirling around in the abyss of beautiful bat shit crazy not to share. So, Hello Again, Mommy, Ma, Mama, Mom, Mi Amor; the writer in me is grateful to make your acquaintance again with the intent to move beyond pleasantries and into full on BFF Mode ASAP.
And I pose to you as you did that sweet, little sparrow you saw that one day years ago when we were on the phone together, “Hey! what do you say? Tell me something good and I’ll tell you the same!”
I LOVE YOU. I MISS YOU. And I am here to write ALL about it.
Love eternal,
Amanda