Never Quite The Same

I remember telling someone when you were dying that I didn't want to be one of those people who was never quite the same after one or both of their parents died.  It always made me so sad to see someone so forever unwhole and, in many ways, I did not understand how someone could "let this happen".  I mean, wouldn't your loved one want you to move forward with your life and find happiness?  Knowing this, how hard could it be to eventually find wholeness again in all that life has to hold?

And here I am, almost six years later, feeling so raw and broken like you just died yesterday. Granted most days are not like today.  Much of the time I exist with your life and your death in the background of all that I am and all that I do.  I can find and even offer some peace in your memory and in the knowledge that what we had was something most do not in their lifetimes.  But moments and days unexpectedly leave me feeling desperate and angry, full of sorrow and visceral loneliness.  I cannot predict their arrivals but they seem to sweep in like vengeful stormclouds and there is not much I can do until they have raged through with heaviness and paralyzing presence.

Today I will write through the storm.  Other days I call on the people I love and ask them to sit in the heaviness with me and they always do.  But it's my heaviness and I must sometimes wait it out alone. I am so sad for the emptiness and the brokenness and so lonely for your complete company and for all of the memories that died with you.  I am angry that I do not have a mother anymore and so painfully envious that people twice my age do and will for years to come.  Most of all I feel forever broken and unwhole... just as I hoped I would not.  I hate that I am writing this because it is so ugly but only brutal honestly and patience seem to weather these storms.