Moving on

Maybe I've been thinking about her so much because my birthday is around the corner. Even though I've lived almost 12 years of life without her, I still wish she were here to celebrate it with me. Sometimes I wonder how I can miss someone so much who hasn't been present in my life for years.

Grief always seems to take me by surprise. Just when I thought I've cried all the tears I've needed to cry about my mom for a while, some fresh, new memory comes to mind and I feel sadness again. I think sometimes I just need to hear someone tell me that it's okay for me to still grieve the loss of her. Maybe I just need to hear someone tell me that it's okay to still miss her and want her in my life. And then I wonder why I need permission from someone else to grieve?

I guess I feel like most of my family is "over" her in a way. And I wonder if I should be over her and moved on too.

You move on as much as you can though when someone close to you dies. But I do often feel the holes that she left that only a mom - my own mom - can fill. I am not over her. Does that mean I haven't moved on? And does that even look the same for everyone anyway?

When Tommy was born, my Aunt came down to stay with me for almost two weeks. She wanted to help with the baby and just be with me for my first days and weeks as a new mom. That was probably something my mom would have done had she been alive. She would have come to stay with me and help. She would have cooked dinner, sat with Tommy so I could sleep and recover, done my dishes, and bought me special things. Instead, Auntie was here to do that. And it meant the world to me to have her fill in that particular hole for me.

When she came that year, she brought this picture to me. I only had one picture ever of my mom and I together from when I was little, so a new picture felt like I had recovered a long lost treasure. I immediately framed this in a sunflowerly frame and it sits on my kitchen counter in my sunflowery kitchen.
I have no idea why I was holding all these balloons. I have a vague memory of this day. We were at my Grammy's house and she took the picture of us. I can remember holding the balloons. I can even remember posing for a picture with my her. But I don't remember anything else. I wish I did. It looked like such a fun day. I was young here -maybe three or so. I wish she were here to tell me what this day was about. I love how cheesy-happy I look.

I'm not sure what it means really to move on when it comes to the loss of my mother. Maybe that's what I've been doing in the last 12 years of my life - moving on. Missing her, grieving her, wishing she were here, and living my life without her.