Thursday, September 13, 2007

Anniversaries


I felt off yesterday. More than usual. Someone asked me how I was and I said, "Living through the gray." They replied that maybe I needed a kick in the butt. I smiled to myself because they just don't know of the world I am living in. And there is no way to "know it" until it happens to you. An extremely personal process.

I was compelled and I mean COMPELLED to get a piece of chocolate cake yesterday. When I have that kind of dessert, I am thinking of mom. She loved chocolate cake!! In the past, I haven't really indulged so much in those kinds of desserts. The sugar usually makes me sick afterwards and its not worth it. But its a whole different story since my mom died. This weekend I even had a glazed donut and its been years since I've eaten one of those!

My friend, Peter Holter told me that the way he got through his parent's deaths is to eat lots of ice cream sundaes. That was his source of comfort. It helps me to know how people move through this passage. It helps me to know that food is often the comfort space. And it helps me to know that I'm not alone in experiencing the uncontrollable waves and ocean of grief.

My sister got ahold of me yesterday. This was after my german chocolate cake treat. She was a wreck and as she said, "losing it." She reminded me that this was the 6 month anniversary of mom going in for the heart surgery. This was the anniversary of the toughest 3 weeks of my life. Was my subconscious churning this about during the day? Was this the reason for the grey feeling? Six months ago, I flew down on Southwest airlines crying my eyes out because of the complications involved with surgery and my mother's poor body. Six months ago, my life changed. I changed and continue to change as a result of her death.

What is strange is that I wouldn't wish that she be back here. Her body was deteriorating and decreasing her quality of life. I know that she is in a much better place. One that I can't even imagine and I'm happy for her. Sometimes I can feel her presence and sometimes I feel nothing. But this pull of anniversaries is something I can't explain. There is a similar process when people get sober. There is an agitation, 'messed up' feeling before and during anniversaries of "one's last drink." What happens in the brain and soul? How does that timeclock of the psyche work? Is it meant as a chime to pause, reflect and appreciate the brevity of life's changes? Is it meant to wake us up to realities that have passed and morphed into new realities?

I'm grateful for the 6 month mark. I'm hoping it means more color in my daily view. There is nothing that heals grief more than "time." I'm also grateful that I have my family to go through this with. It helped me so much to listen to brigid's experience - it gave me words and a context for the day I was having.