Select Page

Keeping Watch

Why did my mom have to die?

That’s a question a kid would ask, not a 52-year-old woman. I’m supposed to be too old to be this grief-stricken.

My mother died in 2017. I’m never, ever going to get over it. I’m just going to get on with it.

Get on with life.

Keeping Watch

So many mornings I wake up with a radiation door of grief upon my chest. The sun is still asleep and the room is still dark. One corner is awash with the soft glow from a jack o’ lantern. It sits on the sill of the west window overlooking the street. I forgot to unplug it and it has kept watch over the neighborhood all night. It’s kept watch over me.

It is October, the month of my mother. It is October, best friend to the color orange. I like to think my mom is keeping watch over me.

So many days I text my sister, my daughter. “I miss mom. I’m having a hard day. I’m never going to be the same.” 

They text back about how they saw her in a dream last night.

Longings

I long to dream about my mother. To see her face. To hold her hands. To hear her laugh. To share a cup of coffee together. People tell me I will see her again someday but, I won’t really know until I get there. Still, I tell my sister and daughter the same thing when they are sad. “We’ll see her again someday. In heaven. With God.”

Mostly, in the dark mornings, I remember her body on the floor, cold and hard and blue. That still really kills me. Kills us all. Sometimes, I remember her that way when I’m driving home from work. I-35 reminds me of my mom. On bad days I should try to go a different route.

I tried hard to bring life to my mother. Mostly, I succeeded except when I failed. When she was dead I wanted to run around and find the life that had slipped out of her but, she was gone.

I do my best to get on with life. I’m still raising Sullivan and Bridgette, which brings me great joy. I take great comfort in the Little Lady Willow, my granddaughter. I’m always so glad when I can help her and Juliette because my mom always helped me.

Every time I see Willow she teaches me things about my mother. Things I didn’t know.

Life now, without my mom, is an endless prairie of wind and sun. Lone tree and hail. The sky is dark but, there are stars. It feels as though she is in those stars, maybe. Nudging me to remember the happy times we shared. I do hope I will see her again someday. Until then, I’ll be keeping watch. I love you, Mom. Forever.

 

 

Gen X Blog Jennifer Chronicles

Thank you for subscribing. Posts are delivered ONCE A WEEK on Sundays at 6 p.m. You can unsubscribe anytime with one click. Also, we will not share your email address with anyone.

14 Comments

  1. J Delancy

    My mother died forty years ago and my favourite aunt (her sister) died in 2019 at the age of 90. You never “get over it”. What happens, is that time wears away the painful edges of your memory until you can think of them without sadness.
    Until then, keep praying and stay cheerful.

    All The Best

    Reply
    • Jennifer

      Thank you. =) I appreciate it. I was thinking of her today when I went to get the mail. Someone had hand-addressed envelope and it reminded me of the cards from her that I will never get again.

      Reply
  2. Michelle

    My fiance believes you can just ‘get over’ grief. After losing my firstborn (and only child at the time) daughter in a car accident I KNOW thats not true. And that was twenty (can’t believe its been that long!) years ago when I was in my early twenties.

    It completely derailed my life goals. I don’t have the life my parents or teachers envisioned for me. They thought I was super smart and would be a doctor or something along those lines someday. However I became and still am a SAHM to two teen boys who I love to death.

    They never met their big sis but Ive always talked to them freely about her. And they hope to one day see her in heaven.

    Ive always been here for them; scared that I might lose them too at any moment. But now I want to do something for myself like start a business. I just can’t shake the feeling I was meant to do something bigger not that Im not immensely grateful to have my boys or be a mother of course. I just don’t know what I’m good at really at this point. Anyways I went off on a tangent.

    Point is I understand about grieving never completely going away. And thats ok. I read a quote on Pinterest about grief. Something along the lines of grief never completely leaves but it changes (i.e. we can find happiness and love again). Grief hanging around simply means you really loved someone and that is a beautiful thing in a way. Also grief is unique to all of us. So never feel like how you grieve is wrong. I am truly sorry for your loss. Blessings your way 💗

    Reply
    • Jennifer

      Michelle, Thank you for taking the time to write a note. I loved reading every word and could feel both your pain and joy. I cannot imagine losing a child. It is a worse hell than losing a mother. I’m so happy for you that you have your sons, although I know nobody can ever replace your daughter. I think the idea of finding what you’re good at after all these years of devotion to motherhood is wonderful. God bless you on this journey. I would love to hear more as your exploration continues.

      Reply
  3. S

    I am not getting over it, just getting on with it” really resonates with me. I’ve lost both parents and my husband.

    Reply
    • Jennifer

      I’m so sorry, Shannon. Love to you. Know I’ve prayed for you today!

      Reply
  4. Grace Georgian

    Im Jasmine’s mom. I lost both my Mom & Dad 3 months apart in 2015. Christmas died for me also. I think about them everyday. I know how you feel x 2. I take 1 day at a time and realized you only have 1 life so live it the way YOU WANNA LIVE IT. Take care love….

    Reply
    • Jennifer

      It’s great to hear from you. My one life has gone by very fast. At 52, I wonder, What next? Am I living my best life as they say? I think my mom would tell me to hang on. Things are going to get better. =)

      Reply
  5. Jeni

    I’m so sorry for your loss Jen. Losing a parent is a tremendous loss. She gave you wonderful memories to cherish. Lucky lucky you. She did good with you – you are her beautiful loving legacy now and she is very much with you. I’m so happy she sent a little red cardinal to remind you. Wish I could give you a hug. XOXO

    Reply
    • Jennifer

      I don’t think I would have seen the cardinals if it weren’t for you and your writing.

      Reply
  6. Beck

    No words…but my heart will never be whole. Our Mom’s death crushed my spirit. Ol’ Split Hoof has done a number on my head ever since. Still, I rejoice because she is with God and that gives me a measure of peace. I love you, sister. I’m always here for you even tho I’m only a shadow of our Momma….💔

    Reply
    • Jennifer

      Love you, Beck. It really sucks that she’s gone.

      Reply
  7. Sue

    It’s hard. I miss my mom every day too. She also passed in 2017.

    Reply
    • Jennifer

      It’s very hard, Sue. Love to you on the journey.

      Reply

Share Your Thoughts

Pin It on Pinterest