Birth and death seem to go hand in hand. The immense feelings, emotions, and experiences that come with motherhood are unexplainable, same goes when your mother dies. My mom and I were so close. I have no siblings, and she was the person I shared everything with-- the one whom I told all my secrets. She listened to, heard, and supported me, ALWAYS. That is what motherhood is all about right? Listening to, and supporting our children. The permanence of giving birth and the permanence of grief are undeniably similar, but for me, one came with immense excitement and the other with pain and sadness I didn't know I had.
We all are born, we live and we all die, but fuck cancer. I was not ready for my mom to die. I need her, her grandchildren need her, my dad needs her. We know our loved ones are always with us.
My mom was so afraid my boys would forget her, she loved them so deeply. We all (her friends, and family) told her that she would not be forgotten. The month or so before she died she was telling me about a sailing trip she took off of Florida. She had a book about the ships and had written a detailed journal entry about her trip. A day or two after she passed away I was sleeping downstairs in my parent's house, and I was dreaming that I was telling my boys about Momo's (my mom) sailing trip, a loud thud woke me from my dream. I went out into the hall to see what made the sound. Looking down on the ground next to a tall six shelved double-stacked bookcase and there on the ground was the sailing book from my mom's trip. So I have to say my mom is right here with us, she can see things we can't see. I am not a religious person, but I do believe my mom is watching over and guiding me.
And motherhood is hard. My mom was a rock.
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