Today is the anniversary of the last day I spent with my mother before she got sick and passed away. It was Martin Luther King Day in 1996 and coincidentally we were both off from work and she went shopping with me while I looked for a new car. Within six weeks of that day my mother was gone. I have always been grateful for that day, How Lucky I am to have had a day of smiles and laughter with my mother before she got sick. My mother was a loving woman and because she brought acceptance to every new experience, I have always felt peace and completion about our relationship.
On this date in 2007, my children’s father died of his one and only heart attack. He was young and it was ridiculous because he was alone and though on the phone with me (50 miles away) and then with our youngest son, almost to the last second of his life he insisted that he had a bad case of indigestion. How angry I was with him for not telling us that his chest hurt!
In both situations, my family experienced the “awful delay”.
Stopping your life to deal with your grief about losing a loved one is the awful delay.
It is no wonder that I face January and even February with a bit of trepidation. While mom actually passed away on Valentine’s Day, our last day happily together is the line of demarcation between what was and never to be again.
Today, my husband and I will be driving 120 miles round trip to see my youngest son, his partner and their new daughter Sophia Ella, who is named after her paternal grandmother. Once again I am very, very grateful. Life ends; and yet always, always, life begins again. How lucky am I to be able to know and experience these things?