The Suckiest Anniversary Ever

Ugh, this is not an anniversary that I really want to mark, or remember. My mom died a year ago today.

 You would think that at some point, saying that or typing that would get easier. I'm still waiting. As you may or may not have surmised, my Listen To Your Mother piece was about what happened after my mom died. When I worried about how I was going to get through the show, a friend of mine suggested that sometimes, just repeating things over and over helps wring the heavy emotion out, so I read and re-read and practiced that damned essay upwards of 500 times just so I wouldn't get choked up and do that thing where my throat closes up, my voice goes sonic and and I do the ugly cry. But no matter how many times I read it out loud, it never once got easier. I didn't, in fact, make it through any of the rehearsals or either of the two shows without crying. (Don't worry, it will be on YouTube and we can all relive the cringe, it's awesome).

I'm actually ok with crying. I'd prefer it happen amongst people who know and love me and preceded by the speedy ingestion of a really nice bottle of pinot noir, but I guess I can't be choosy. And I can't stop the days from going by so that it's longer and longer since I saw her and talked to her. I do this weird, non-helpful thing in my head when a holiday or family event rolls around: I think, a year ago, my mom was here for this.  A year ago, she called me on my birthday. We spent Easter together, a year ago. She sent Hopper a check so he could go buy himself some ice cream...a year ago. And now I can't do that and I don't know why that bothers me so much. It's not like having her gone for a year is any better than having her gone for a year and a day.

I will say that there have been some bright points. I think that my brother and sisters and I are closer than we've ever been. We spend more time together. We check in more often.   Every once in a while, one of us will text the others just to say, "hey, today sucked for me" and we all know exactly what they're feeling. I mean, I got the goddamned Fingerhut catalog in the mail a few months ago and to you, that probably means nothing. But my sisters know why I called them in tears:  I could hardly believe that Fingerhut is still solvent, months after the loss of my mother's support.

I guess the thing is: it's hard getting over thinking  in terms of when my mom was with us for it last because there are so, SO many things happening that she never got to see. Life just keeps boogying on and just this month, there's so many milestones  for us to celebrate. We just have to find a way of keeping her present that isn't all about mourning her absence. I don't have it all figured out yet, but I'm getting there.

I sure do miss her though.