It's A Process

I am not an author. My words are not eloquent or inspirational like your typical influencer these days. But it seems that once or twice a year I just need to write. I write for myself. To make some sense out of the thoughts that run through my head sometimes too quickly for me to process. And, if I publish it (do people even have blogs anymore?), I write so that others can understand what I often cannot vocalize. Here I sit at 10pm on a Friday night. Not sad, just thinking and wondering.

Grief and loss are funny things. You can read books and articles about the beginning. Initially there is devastation. The world seems to collapse and people rally and it feels busy and overwhelming and chaotic. A year or two pass and you have frequent waves of intense grief. People forget, but you don't. It's messy and lonely.

Here I am. A little more than twelve years into this process. There doesn't seem to be nearly as much coverage of this phase. As far as I know, it's not talked about much. The grief waves aren't nearly as frequent. I can go days without even thinking about my mom. The people in my inner circles never knew her. Sometimes I find myself starting to say, "Hey, remember when she..." But they don't remember. They don't remember because they didn't know her. So I am quiet.

It's different now. I don't spend my days wishing for her and trying to will her to come back. Sometimes I'm sad, but mostly I wonder. I cycle through the same few pictures of her, because there will not be any new ones. I wonder what it's like to have a mom. What WAS it like to have a mom? Because honestly, I don't have many memories of her. Would we still be close? Would we hang out? What kind of things would she say to me? Would we text all the time? Talk on the phone? How many times a day would she tell me that I can do hard things? I don't have answers. It's weird. I don't love it. I accept it. But I wonder.

When we first lost her people kept reminding me that God works all things for good. That he would bring good things through this. It made me mad, but they were right. God HAS done so many good and miraculous things through it all. I'm beginning to see it, twelve years later. It doesn't mean life is easy. It doesn't make it okay. But I can say with confidence that He has carried me through this beautifully messy life. One that I never could have planned for myself.

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