One Year Later

Yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of Mom's death.

This is not a year I would ever go through willingly again. This is not a year I would ever wish on anyone else. This has been, in my opinion, a year of lessening degrees of hell and learning to live within them.

Does time make it better? Unquestionably, yes. This time last year my heart was torn in two. During the year I've struggled with thoughts of anger, depression, hopelessness - grief at its finest. And slowly, painfully, my heart has knit back together - in a fashion. It still has very sore areas and a huge scar, but it is healing. It will never be the same as it was.

My relationship with God has suffered as well. We weren't on speaking terms for a long, long time. I couldn't figure out why He had allowed this to happen - what purpose there was in Mom's suffering and death. Sure, Mom was no saint and neither am I. But does that mean she had to die because of it?

That was a hard one to work out. And to tell you the truth, I'm still working on it. God? He's waiting for me to finally find the answer and come back. Or not to find the answer and to trust Him anyway. All I can say is that it's taking the hurt a long time to heal there as well.

It was also a year of firsts. I don't mean that in a totally negative way, either. Yes, there were the birthdays and holidays we missed with Mom. But there was also the day I was going through my voicemail at work and discovered a message she left me just before my birthday in 2008. In it, she was telling me my birthday cake was ready to be picked up. It was her voice. A gift.

She made it possible for all of our bills to be paid off. What a first that was! Because of her, my sister and I are now closer than we've been in years. We make it a point to meet for coffee once every two weeks. We call and email each other. We're still as different as night and day, but the world needs both of us to go round.

Yesterday I made it a point to talk to Mom and to God. I poured out my hurting heart to them both, and told them it's time to get on with life. And then I told Mom a secret.

She's going to be a great-grandmother again.

Oh, how she would have loved that!

I hope, somehow, she knows.