As Time Passes

My mom passed away October 24, 2004.

Before this, when I had to call up big tears for auditions, I would use the idea of her dying and it worked like a charm. Just the faintest notion of the loss of her would send me into a chasm of sadness.

I can honestly say the idea of her death and the reality of it are nowhere near the same. The depths of grief I thought I would feel is nothing compared to the daily heatbreak I live with now. It's been such an emotional rollercoaster. Every time I think I'm doing better and dealing with it in a positive way, I get smacked in the gut. With the passing of Mother's Day and prime time television, there are a million reminders a day that I no longer have a mother on this planet.

My relationship with my mom over the last few years was strained to say the least. I won't get into the sordid details as it's not my intention to air the grievances I had with my mother in this blog. I'll just say that, as all humans are, my mom was flawed. I understand that no one is perfect but I always wanted more than she was able to give. My life growing up was incredibly unstable and with the loss of her I know she can never provide the guidance of a parent in regards to security and stability; something I had always searched out from her.

Her death means the end of the possibility of a deeper, more meaningful relationship. Thankfully, just before she died, before the wedding in fact, I was able to find the path of acceptance after a enlightening talk with Gary. I had only taken baby steps but overall I was feeling better about our relationship. Regardless of this change in my thinking, there have been times when I've felt tremendous hypocrisy because of my abundant grief vs. the state of our relationship when she died. I remind myself that it's about the loss of my mom, one of the people that loved me first. She knew me from the inside; she carried me. I was a part of her. That love, that bond, is something that I can share with no other person on this earth. I've got a huge hole that only she could fill in my life, in my consciousness and in my spirit. The love I have for her is her's alone. It's not the same as loving a spouse, a friend, a pet or even myself.

Over the last couple of months I've felt worse than when it first happened. I spoke with my sister about this oddity and she claimed to be feeling the same way. It was her idea that the shock of it all had worn off and now we were living in the pit of it. My pit consists of a different kind of sadness from anything I've experienced before. Of course there are the tears, there are always tears, but this has more of an angry rumble. Anger with out the fire, with out the movement - just a thickness that stays in my chest. I still know how to smile, how to laugh, how to maintain a conversation, so I imagine that everyone believes me to be fine. I can understand how people can continue to "manage" their grief for years with out the people around them noticing that anything is wrong.

I miss my mom.

I'm not posting this today looking for sympathy or words of encouragement. I'm simply trying out another way of coping.