two years

The date's engraved forever- 12-12-12. Two year's time does make a difference. Twenty four months later and I do still miss her, but her pain is now less of the memory. Her love overpowers it.

I went through the day with little sleep from the night with realization that this day this year would soon be here. Now, it is. I love her still as I have before, but the tragedy becomes less prominent as I conquer each following day. Today, though, was not a smooth beating of the heart. It hurt.

I cried this morning, washing away the makeup of a presentable front. I battled my sorrow as I tried to reapply tear after tear, but I could not keep up. Losing the fight, I broke. I sobbed, because I still remembered too well the foolishness of my understanding that my mom would take her last breath on this very day just two years ago. Regardless of whether or not I wanted to, I was about to lose her. I wasn't ready for it, but I must have had a feeling, because I didn't sleep a second of that night. I watched her. I watched my mom as she struggled to breathe. She was in a coma, and I fought the reality of losing her. I wanted her.

Not for a moment do I wish she had to endure the fate she did. Not for a second am I happy about it. I lost having her call me by my name. I lost seeing her smiling at me. I lost her laugh. I lost her touch. Never do I feel again her warm embrace. I don't get to see her for the holidays. I don't get to hold her hand. She's gone. It is so hard that this is now my reality. I love her. I loved her so much, but it wasn't enough to make the pain all go away. Yet instead... she did.

Oftentimes, I think she's the only one to pick up the pieces I sometimes feel I am. She is my mother with my mother's touch. Still, I don't have her. I only have the strength she taught me to make it through the days, months, and years. I have the compassion she's shown me to lead me in my life. I have the memories of her as she celebrated life with great happiness to encourage me to strive. I have her in me, my sisters, and my heart.

She probably watches over me like I once did her. She must see my struggles as I once witnessed hers. She loves me more than I must know. It's likely she, too, misses me as deep as I miss her. The bond of our mother-daughter connection was true and lasting, and it will stay with me this lifetime. With each passing year to come, I know I will still have her in my heart. I know she would choose for me to be happy. Wishing peace for you, now and forever, I love you, mom.

& I love you

Happy Mother's Day.

high hopes

In many ways, 2013 was a cruel year to me, but I could argue 2012 treated me so much worse, taking away my mom and giving me my first real broken heart. I've experienced so much in the last year, having to relearn to live, to grow quicker than anyone should, and to heal a hole bigger than myself. Some days I still feel like an infant without her mother- lost, abandoned, helpless, and frightened, but I cannot allow it to paralyze me.

2013 was the first year of my life I have ever truly experienced loneliness. The luxuries of my youth filled with family, friends, freedom, and unburdening fun feel like a distant lifetime ago. The shackles of responsibility keep me from the free spirit I once felt myself to be. Helping hands of family friends and old classmates offered to pull me up, but I couldn't help feeling the lack of my mother's warmth. If you knew her, you knew her big, bright smile and giving, open arms. You knew the joy she would share without asking for a minute back. It hurts to admit that no one can ever replace her. No one can ever make me love and miss her less. I don't know how, but every thought of her just makes me long for her more than I knew I was capable. Reading previous posts of her in this very blog is impossible without feeling myself break down again and reliving the lost.

I can only say I've made it through this year with the strength she has bred in me and the kind hearts of others that show there is hope. There's hope that 2014 will be kind and gentle with my healing soul. There's hope that I still have my sisters and comfort that my mom is watching over us. I'll forever be grateful for the good memories shared and the lessons hard learned. This year, next year, and the many years to come, I'll always love my mom. She's my mom. <3

living without

It is hard to believe that it was a year ago which my mom had the surgery that would reveal the doom of the cancerous growth eating at her body and stealing her life. I can only reminisce on a life with her and her big smile now. I don't know how I did it, how I survived thus far. The journey to this point seemed so daunting and yet I am now facing a calendar with a month once filled with countless doctor appointments. Difficult is an understatement.

Coping with a loss is always difficult. It's typically hard to imagine life without what you once had. I'll be honest and admit that I don't have much experience in losing many relationships. I've coped with the passing of 3 elderly grandparents, while nursing one until basically the end. I can only say I made it through losing my grandmother with the strength and support of my sisters, cousins, and mother. Sad to say, I don't really have them around anymore. I'm relearning to live a full life, this time without my mom- the individual who birthed me, raised me, disciplined me, and molded me to be who I am today. Apparently, she made a stronger girl than I thought I could be.

I don't like having lost her. I don't think I ever will. She'll have missed out on so much of what life I expect to still live. She will never see me in a wedding dress. She'll never know the names of her future grandchildren, and they will never get to know her. She won't be there when I buy my first house. Nor will she ever see me grey. Losing someone is already difficult enough, but the cruelty is in living without them.

Not a day goes by that I don't wish she didn't have to have suffered and fight the unfair battle she had with cancer. Not a minute of me missing her is without pain. I know this year will be difficult as the anniversary of my beloved mother's passing approaches. I hope then that I can find the strength she bred in me. Now and forever, I will always love her.

six months

It's hard to believe it's already been six months. Has it gotten any easier? Just barely. I still wish you could help me through all the hard times and share all the good times. What I am missing most? Your hug.

may days

I get glimmers of hope. They usually surprise me, because honestly, I don't naturally expect such kindness and good in the world anymore. Things have gotten so gloomy, and it feels as if depression constantly waits at the door for an opportunity to sneak into my life. It is a process to find happiness especially when the world shares its pitiless reminders of my mom's sickness and of her absence when I let my guard down. It's May, and I have already survived a week of it. Mother's day will mark the fifth month of life without my mom. Nevertheless, happy memories are still far from my door.

If it is May, why is it I still open bills disguised as letters? Apparently my mom's health insurance failed to approve a test my mom received in October. She and I started the cruel journey that ultimately led to her demise back in late September. Does paper really move so slowly in this day and age of technological advancements that I must open a bill due the day before her birthday? Moving on and finding peace is a process, but does it need to be burden? I received the letter a few days ago, but pushed it off and opened it today. I called their customer service and expected another headache from paperwork and policies. I was put on hold, and when the nice representative came back, she relieved me of the bill. I didn't understand, but she just clarified and said, "You don't have to pay it." She apologized for my lost, and I thanked her, hung up, and cried.

Why does it hurt so much? I feel like I should be happy, but I'm sad. I should be relieved, but I feel heavy. I would pay anything to not have to say she died. I still miss her everyday and wish I could have saved her. Why is it so hard to go on without her? How am I suppose to do this? I miss her. I still miss my mom.

I struggle. I struggle with surviving, with remembering, with hoping, and with wanting. The hospice center where my mom spent her last days held a Celebration of Life memorial the first weekend of this month. I decided to attend it only a few weeks before, because I didn't know if I would be strong enough. Months ago, they sent mail requesting photos of lost loved ones for a video montage that would be shown at the memorial. I didn't submit anything. The anxiety from knowing and waiting for my mom's photo to be projected across the wall was not something for which I was ready to handle. Instead I brought a photo for the Memory Table. It was difficult to find one photo of just her since vanity was not a trait of hers, but I enlarged one and brought her a mother's day card as well. I wanted something there for her.

The Celebration of Life helped me, and I don't regret attending it. However, that doesn't mean it didn't make me sad. I missed my mom. Fact is life is different now. For instance, I won't have a Mother's Day brunch with my mother. I can't share cake with her on her birthday. Those days this month actually coincide with a graduation and festival I know she would have loved to attend. In fact, my mom had strove to fight cancer and make it to my little sister's graduation, watching her receive her two degrees. It's personally difficult attending and knowing that my mom isn't there. I'll miss her even more.

Hope is a fleeting feeling for me. I hope for happiness, but the act itself of looking forward to a future doesn't always consume me. I used to not care about the future that seemed so grim, but now I get surprised with little acts of kindness that reignite my hope for a better future. In fact, I was literally given hope a couple of weeks ago. I didn't expect to get the small gift, but it made me stop and take another look at life. Humanity is always there. It's hard accepting what I cannot have especially when I have always had and still need my mom in my life. I will always love her and always miss her. It's difficult not having her when I need her most. I'm hurting more without my mom than I have ever in my life, and she isn't there to help me like I want. Grieving and coping are exhausting and take an enormous emotional toll. I'm not close to the finish line and haven't completed half of what needs to be done yet. It sucks, yet I am learning through the process that one day eventually, everything will be okay. 

carry on

I had plans to write an optimistic post, but the truth is I am still sad. I cried myself to sleep the night before as the four month mark of my mom's passing came. I continue to struggle with losing my mom, yet it seems that no one really noticed or remembered just four months ago, I was not a motherless daughter.

My mom was a single mom who worked until she couldn't. Even from the beyond, it's as if she still can't catch a break. Dead or alive, this great country of freedoms and dreams still wants and requires her taxes. I'm left holding the pieces as if I were as strong as she, but the truth is I feel not only that my plate is full, but it is also cracked and broken. I'm just trying to hold it together so that nothing slips through the cracks, but I don't know if it's only a matter of time.

Everyday is a reminder that I walk the halls alone now. I don't see my mom, because I can't. It's not a matter of what I want, a mother is something I need. My dreams of her are more scarce as if time has been enough for me to move on and cope. Losing someone who brought me into the world and guided me with unconditional love is not something easier to deal with when taking place so quickly, like ripping a bandage off one's heart. I know I'm bleeding inside and the most difficult part is that she's not here to help me.

I hear that I have come a long way since the day she passed, yet I catch myself falling back every now and then. Everyday I consciously look for reasons to enjoy living as if it's a burden I'm obligated to endure. Dying isn't difficult to me; it's living that is. I remember seeing my mom fight death harder than she had struggled in life. I had prayed to switch fates with her as if I had something bargain with the universe to change. I suppose she had three reasons she wanted to live for- my sisters and me. She knew me better than I did myself as she worried about my future without her. She worried I wouldn't be able to just carry on and breathe, and she was right. I drowned. Yet, I am a survivor, and the bruises are my own. The wounds are mine to heal, and the wounds are embedded so deeply inside me. It continues to be difficult to hold myself together when my world has shattered. I miss the naive girl I once had the luxury to be.

This month has allowed me time to reflect and I decided if I am to live, then I will. Time is something so generous when we're bored and so stingy when we need it most. Mother's day is next month followed by my mom's birthday. May once was a month I celebrated, focusing on my mom and graduations. It used to represent the coming of summer break and a time of fun and freedom. My little sister is graduating with both her Bachelors of Science and of Arts, and I'm scheduled to attend. I didn't enjoy how I was saddened as I remembered my mom had planned to live and make it as I booked my flight. It was suppose to be two tickets booked. I don't want to continue to be shackled by what could have and should have been when what should have is what I want. I miss her presence most.

Although there are days where I hate how unfair the cards have been dealt, I have a simple reason to try to strive. My mom. She tried for me and for my future. She fought for me and my future. My sisters today just have ourselves as they too had lost their mom. I'm sorry for their lost almost more than my own. I'm sorry for their pain as I feel for them too. But I'm finding hope as I search for reasons to care and carry on with life. No matter how cruel time has been, I still hear that time will heal all wounds. If time can be forgiving, I can be forgiving of it. I will always have had my mom there for me before, and time cannot take it back.