I'm feeling decidely less cottoney now, thanks. Monday afternoon my mother-in-law appeared on my doorstep and offered to take me to the grocery store. It was nice to get out a little bit. My suitcase arrived yesterday. I've got laundry going, things to put away, letters to write, French homework to do. Steph is working in town today, so I've got a specially-requested lunch to make.
Dad asked my sister and me to take some of Mom's personal affects. They are sitting in a carry on bag in the front room. I can't bear the thought of going through them again. I keep hearing Mom calling me in the back of my head. Walking through town is painful, because I realize she will never know this town, my in-laws, her grandchildren - nevermind that my children will never know her generosity, humor, her love of games and sports. I am overwhelmed with questions I want to ask her. I want to call her and say, "Mom, you're dead, what do I do now?" How ridiculous is that? Every step I take from now on, I won't be able to share with her.
We have been so lucky in all of my family. The vast majority seem to be taken by illness only in old age. Fifty-nine is not old. I find myself seeing older women and becoming upset and resentful. Why should they get to live? Mom didn't do anything to deserve this.
I know eventually these feelings will fade. I know that anger and despair are parts of the grieving process. I know I have to pick up and move on, somehow.
Excuse me if I flounder around a bit, and posting is a bit light. I know this doesn't make very interesting reading - there's loads of good writing in the sidebar on the right that I can encourage you to visit. Thanks again for all your positive and supportive comments. They have really lifted me up.