My mom passing was the absolute hardest part of my life.
I went through grief and sadness, helpless feeling, guilt. I just wanted the world to go away and leave me completely alone.
I was/am a mommas boy. But our relationship was different because my parents divorced and I chose to live with my dad. My mom was deeply alcoholic at that time and not fit to parent. Years went by with no contact. Eventually, we started talking again. Became close. I moved into her house when I was in college (which is how I ended up with my cat). We got really close. I found out so much about myself by getting to know my mom. It was a great time. Then, she passed away from a stroke. She was only in her 50’s. I wanted so much more for her life. Time to make up for lost years. We planned on vacations and her retirement house in the Bahamas. Life had shit on her and things were just getting good and she died. (Now im crying writing this sentence). It never gets better. It always hurts. The only relief is that I have moved on enough to largely forget her in my day to day life. That sounds terrible, but it’s a coping mechanism. I cherish our good times and do my best to live a life that she would be proud of. She never told people how to live or judged anyone. Even if they were fucking up, she would say “you can do whatever you like, but you have to live with the consequences”. I owe a lot of my independence and responsibility to that.
Sorry if this is unwelcome. I know I got sick of people trying to talk to me at that time in my life. Luckily, I could just hand the phone to my wife and walk away. I don’t remember it, but my wife said I would just leave the house and she didn’t know where I would go. I still can’t be sure. I think I just drove around. I remember keeping her throw pillow from her couch because it smelled like her. Listening to her favorite albums and crying a lot. Probably a weird sight to see driving around.
On a mild breezy day, I’ll open the windows, listen to my moms wind chime (one of a few things I still have), put on an Edith Piaf album and cook one of her recipes. My wife knows what’s up when that happens. She’ll give me a hug, and space, to spend some time with my mom. Nobody is immortal unless we keep them alive in us somehow. I hope you too find a way.