This grief's mantra and constant drone

It's a low lying, low flying repeat of the word, "mom. mom. mom. mom." I've been so busy and distracted with work; picking up the pieces of my dropped life. Its been kept at bay - the drone of busy'ness chattering above grief's constant reminders. "mom.mom.mom.mom"
But today, driving alone up to Ashland, I noticed over and over all the things I was storing up to tell her when I called. And every time I started storing an image to tell her about, a bite to eat I enjoyed, I caught myself and heard the drone. "mom.mom.mom." I couldn't call my mom because she isn't on this planet to pick up the phone. The consistent call to listen to the void of mom/gloria was with me all day and all this evening. When I was away I would call and tell her about all the things I was doing - driving conditions, price of gas, who I met with....small incidences in my life that she seemed to enjoy hearing about.

I think this is called missing her.

I remember several weeks ago when she was still alive and she had my attention 1,000%. The tragedy, the suffering and the shock of all that was going on replayed over and over in my head. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't rest. The "mom.mom.mom.mom" drone was so loud and deafening. It's only relief was through a breakthrough sob and cry. My body connecting to the words and expressing its angst. The drone would lessen and quiet with the tears. And in a few more minutes it would start up again until another crescendo - all in its own time, undetermined by any timeline of mine.

Today is the 17th day without my mother. I know the mantric drone of 'mom.mom.mom.mom'
will shift, change, get loud, get quiet, get sporadic and be constant - like a running river. I just don't know the journey - nor do I know the ocean that it will spill into.