One word I had throughout the first year and a half of my mother's death was 'unmoored.' I felt that I had no anchor, that I had no home in the world.
I think about my mother every day. But usually the thoughts are fleeting - she crosses my mind like a spring cardinal that flies past the edge of your eye: startling, luminous, lovely... gone.
A mother is a story with no beginning. That is what defines her.
A mother, after all, is your entry into the world. She is the shell in which you divide and become a life. Waking up in a world without her is like waking up in a world without sky: unimaginable.
But when my mother died, I found that I did not believe that she was gone.
I'm not much like my mother; that role falls to my brothers, who have more of her blithe and freewheeling spirit.
When my mother was sick, I found myself needing to put down in my journals all sorts of things - to try to understand them, and, I think, to try to remember them.
Like my mother before me, I have always been a good speller.
I was not raised with religion, and I had no faith before my mother died. On the other hand, when she died, I did not immediately feel she was "gone." I don't believe she is in something like heaven, but I also feel that we don't understand much about the nature of the universe. So I hold on to that uncertainty, at times.
Nothing prepared me for the loss of my mother. Even knowing that she would die did not prepare me.
A mother is the portal by which you enter the world.
The truth is, I need to experience my mother's presence in the world around me and not just in my head.
A mother is beyond any notion of a beginning. That's what makes her a mother.
My mother died of metastatic colorectal cancer shortly before three P.M. on Christmas Day of 2008. I don't know the exact time of her death, because none of us thought to look at a clock for a while after she stopped breathing.
And after my mother's death I became more open to and empathetic about other people's struggles and losses.
My mother never liked Mother's Day. She thought it was a fake holiday dreamed up by Hallmark to commodify deep sentiments that couldn't be expressed with a card.
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