Today's the Day

It's the 10th anniversary of Mom's death - October 11, 1997. Yes, it's true that the pain lessens over time, at least it has for me. And I still miss her, every day. But it's turned into... I don't know... an ache for the relationship I wish we had rather than missing the actual relationship.

I was in a big hurry to leave home, and married just 2 months before I turned 19. I don't know why I wanted to leave so quickly. I wasn't pregnant, I wasn't living with strict disciplinarians, I don't think I really loved my first husband, and I actually liked my childhood and high-school years. I guess I just thought it was time, I was ready, I was "old enough."

So I was out of the house by 19, which meant that most of my growing up happened away from Mom and Dad and my brother. Mom and I weren't particularly close, but we weren't overly contentious, either. (Although Mom did confess a couple of years before she died that I sort of intimidated her when I was growing up, that she often wondered how I became so strong, that she admired me for my strength. Maybe my believing that we didn't have a contentious relationship was not shared by her...)

Married to husband #1 for 6 years, it didn't occur to me to talk with her about the problems we were having, so when I told her we were divorcing, she was fairly shocked. When I told her I was moving to California, I hadn't talked with her about my plans, so she was fairly shocked at that, too. Once in California, the day-to-day-ness of life didn't seem like a lot to talk about, so when I told her I was remarrying, she was shocked. Ditto through buying my first house, divorce #2, buying my condo, going back to get my degree, and falling in love (finally, for the first real time). (Okay, so K was different... I couldn't really let on all that much because he was still married... give me at least that bit of discretion...)

There were lots of things we didn't talk about, but then again, I don't know if we were a family that ever talked about these kinds of things. Yet through these past 10 years, I've mythologized that at some time in my 'adult' life, we would have had a more 'talky' kind of relationship. To be fair, during the last couple of visits, we did open up more about life in general and I learned more about her life.

In these past 10 years, especially in the first two years since she died, my aunt sort of stepped in to take her place. We became a mutual support system - from my side, we were having the kind of conversations I wished I had with my mom, and from her side, we were having the kinds of conversations she actually did have with her sister. But even those have tempered with time, and I still don't think I could talk with my aunt about everything that scares me or worries me or drives me crazy.

Blather... I was lucky enough to be with her during the last week of her life, to talk with her, take her to radiation sessions, hold her hand, tell her I loved her, give her sips of water, put Tiger Balm on her lips. I know she loves me and she knows that I love her, and I'll see her again and tell her again.

Here's to my mom and to everyone's mom. Tell her you love her.