Sleep, grief and …

I can’t sleep. I am so sad. Today was as hard as I expected without my mom. My husband and step dad did an amazing job today of helping to make the day a nice one. Last night, for Christmas Eve, we spent time with my dad and step mom; which was also lovely. The smells of baked goods, (we made cookies Christmas eve morning) and being merry remind me of my mom. My step dad did a beautiful job today of honoring our Christmas traditions with pan dulce (Mexican sweet bread) and Mexican hot chocolate. He stuffed the stockings and hung them with loving care. His Christmas presents were kind and thoughtful. My moms sparkly smile and amazing laugh was missing for me the entire day. This balance of honoring her, remembering her and being present for my husband and kids is confusing. My learning moment for today was the idea to create alter area. I need a spot in my house to honor my mom.
People just don’t know how to do grief. It’s weird how no one talks about it or acknowledges the elephant in the room or even offers a kind hug and acknowledgment that this must be a hard time of year.
I made so many mistakes in the past year. So many missed moments with my mom. So many things that could have been different that would have made such a difference in her life when she was alive and would now make a difference for me since she is gone- and yet – if I practice being in this one single moment here is what I know.
I know I am sitting in a cozy warm bed, I know I am deeply tired, I know in this minute that I am grateful for my family and for the roof over my head. In this one minute, I miss my mom so much I feel like throwing up. I know I am super tired and still find myself confused that this is my life.


Deep sorrow.

I miss my mom tonight. I am feeling dumpy and pathetic and weepy.
Not that I don’t miss her a zillion times every day. It’s just different tonight- in the pit of my stomach. I know it’s because I am using her iPad tonight. Looking at the loving way she took photos of everyone she loved. I also know its because I was looking at those photos through her eyes- the eyes of someone who was sitting all of the time throughout this past year. Which was the exact opposite of my mom. My mom was vibrant and filled with joy and wonder of life and filled with experiencing fun. The pain in my chest is searing. The missing and the yearning is daunting. How do I hold on to her essence. How so I hold on to it all? I don’t know. I need to figure it out though. For myself and my kids. I need to preserve all that is good and wonderful about Donna. For my sanity.
I miss my mom. I need her here. I want her here with me. I am deeply sad.