Missing Mom

I was the first one in the door at Frothy Monkey in 12South, like the Sunday mornings so often in the last couple of years, when I stopped in here first then went to see my mom.  I'm having a cup of coffee then I've got to head into the office to do some work and for a meeting.

This was a tough week for me.  I was absolutely swamped at work, then had to work at home at night to try to get ready for the next day.  Depositions and mediations all week long.  In the middle of that, I found myself really, really sad - an aching sadness.  Sadness for what I've lost, what my boys lost and what my mom lost.  

I'm told by many, virtually everyone, that it will get better with time and that there are good days and bad days.  It seems like it's going in the opposite direction right now for me.

I miss my mom terribly.  I miss the person she was in the last couple of years so much more than I thought was humanly possible.  I miss her smile and her happiness when I walked into the Courtyard.   I miss reading poetry from the New Yorker to her during my visits.  I miss watching her eat a donut on Sunday morning, when I brought a dozen and left them for the staff.  I miss the sense of purpose I had in working time into my schedule to see her.  I miss the sense of peace I often got when I was with her.  I miss watching my boys - my gentle, loving boys - read to her and to Ms. Carol.

The finality of it all is so heavy on my heart.  Life goes on all around me and I have to go on with it.  But it's hard, damn hard to find the energy to do all I need to do at work and be all I need to be at home, with the boys and Jude.

A couple of nights ago, I watched a video from about a year ago of my mom in the library at NHC Place, reading a poem to me.  Watching her read and hearing her voice stopped my heart.

I miss you, mom.