I slept until 4:30 yesterday afternoon. Apparently, I needed the sleep. I usually go for weeks, sometimes months, without sleeping more than an hour or two a night. Then, after a few weeks of that, I literally pass out for almost an entire day.
Something was different when I woke up. I don’t know if I dreamt about Mom, or what. But almost immediately, I was getting tearful. I listened to a voicemail that my aunt left for me, saying that she had brought some more of Mom’s things to the house. The last clothing she ever wore. As I hung up the phone, I realized that tears were pouring down my face. My throat felt like it was closing up on me. A little while later, Mom’s brother…my most amazing uncle…called me to tell me what they had accomplished as far as getting some things out of her house. The moment he said, “Hey, Niece-of-Mine,” it took everything in me not to start sobbing on the phone. I could barely get any words to come out. I cried some more when I got off the phone. I didn’t understand why I was so “weepy” all of a sudden. I decided to head over to pick up Shiloh from her “puppy sleepover” with her brother, Emmett. The entire drive there, I found the road in front of me getting blurry as tears filled my eyes. Thoughts raced through my mind.
*She’ll never be on the other end of the phone line when I want to call her just to hear her voice. Never.
*She’ll never be here for another birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas. Never.
*She’ll never hug me again. Never.
*She’ll never take me on the trip we had been talking about…the “just us” trip that we never got to take. Never.
*She’ll never see me try on my wedding gown on the day of my wedding. Never.
*She’ll never be in any more photographs with me. Never.
*She’ll never sing the lullaby to my child that she used to sing to me as a baby. Never.
*She’ll never place her cheek against my ever-growing belly to tell her grandchild that “Grammy” couldn’t wait to meet him/her. Never.
*She’ll never again read my writing and tell me how wonderful it is…even if it is crap. Never.
*She’ll never get to meet the friend who has changed my life and views on friendship. Never.
*She’ll never come back. Never, ever again.
She’s gone, and there’s NOTHING I can do about it. She and I were about as close as any two people can be. She was the one who knew me inside and out. She was the one who could make even the worst situations seem better. But she’s not here to make this seem better.
As I drove to pick up Shiloh, these thoughts just ran through my head over and over. I felt the tightness come back into my throat. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I walked into the house, and my sweetest friend was standing there. Knowing me like she does, the first thing out of her mouth was, “What is it, sweetie?” Well, I had a total meltdown right there in her kitchen. I literally cried on her shoulder and snotted all over the kitchen floor that she had just mopped. She said all the right things. I felt better.
A couple of hours later, I left and began to just drive around. I’ve been doing that a lot lately, especially when I know G isn’t off work yet. As I was driving close by to where he works, my phone rang. It was my incredible hubs-to-be. The tears came yet again. As he gave me words of encouragement, I looked over and there he was, driving right beside me. He drove behind me all the way home to make sure I was okay.
It’s 4 weeks today since she left. Tomorrow will be my 30th birthday. The day after tomorrow will be exactly one month since she left this world. Why has it taken me a month to really let it sink in that she’s not coming back? Why couldn’t I have stayed strong like she was? I can’t stop thinking about the last two weeks we spent together in the hospital. I think about how every time she woke up, she would call out for me and say, “It’s okay, Baby. It’s okay.” Even though I wasn’t crying or upset at the time, she was only thinking of me. She was so selfless. She was always so worried about me. When it got to the point where she was only lucid for small amounts of time throughout the day, I would talk to her and hug and kiss her. She would get the most peaceful smile on her face and tell me that she loved me.
I wish I could hear her tell me she loves me just one more time.
1 comment:
MB, you will see her again, for you and she believe in The Savior. You hold onto that. You write so beautifully. You really should do a book. You are so blessed to have had Bethie for your mom. You are so like her. I don't think I ever spoke to her that she didn't talk about you, and how much she loved you. She would say, "Lynn, when I'm gone, MB will have lots of "mothers", in all my BCO friends. I'd say, "Let's don't talk about this now." But then, she'd make me promise not to forget, and I would promise. No one will ever replace your mother, but I hope that you at least lean on those of us who loved her too, when you need to. Keep writing. It does you good and those who read it good. Love and hugs,
Lynn
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