Other Shoe
The other day, my brother Nathan asked me about how I felt regarding our mother's death, whether I was a wreck or felt okay and was wondering when "the other shoe would drop". I told him I did feel okay, and that I fully expected the other shoe to drop, repeatedly, throughout my life.
I had a shoe drop today. I was going over to a friend's house, who turned out not to be there, and trying to think about how I felt about my mother dying so that when she asked me how I was doing I could talk about it a little. Because, truth be told, I feel so much that it's hard to sort through it all and make heads or tails of it.
As I was sitting in the car, looking at a wallet size photo of my mother with Liam, with the gear shift under my hand, I realized that it was my mother who taught me how to drive stick shift. It wasn't far before I was sobbing. I got myself to my friend's mother's house - she happens to live down the street from me and is also a hospice nurse, walked in and said, "I need someone to say 'I know'." Not everyone does, of course. In fact, many people simply don't. And hey, bully for you. But sometimes, I just need someone who does know.
Well, we all need our distractions. Here's one for you:
Comments
THe video is great. Liam has grown so much!
I want people who know, and know better than to mention their loss.
Unless they're greiving in that moment too.
Posted by: r.t.bean | January 24, 2008 11:29 PM
Mara, I am loving Liam's chatter. So sweet. :)
And, Rachael, I second that.
Love and support to you both.
Posted by: kristen | January 24, 2008 11:38 PM
Hi Mara -
We don't know each other -- but "I know".
I found your blog through your mom's and hers through Leroy - our paths are similar as my mom died from pancreatic cancer in November 2006. So, I do know where you've been and probably where you are going - since I am a few footsteps ahead of you. If you ever want to chat - please feel free to contact me.
Posted by: michelle | January 25, 2008 12:18 AM
Hey Mara,
When the other shoe drops, dust it off and put it on over your Maman's socks. A beacon of comfort, those socks.
Distractions are key, and your Liam is a top-rate distraction! He's so big, and makes such sweet noises. Nathan was telling me that Liam likes exploring his somatic senses, whilst my Niklaavs is auditory. Babies are fascinating.
Lots of love to you, Mark, and Liam.
Posted by: Ingrida | January 29, 2008 2:48 PM
Like a bottle of Drano to the stuck piece of sewage in my emotional plumbing, this story knocked things loose. I found myself sobbing at my keyboard, thanking God that I was working from home and not in the office. And I don't even believe in God.
I didn't cry until the video, when you started saying: "Do you like Mommy's toesies?" And I thought, "I like my Mommy's toesies. We washed them with rose oil and warm water and wrapped them in silk and now they're gone forever."
I didn't mean to think it, it just popped in and surprised me.
And the pain came from nowhere, from everywhere at once. I couldn't make a sound. Tears flooding out of my eyes, the room swimming, pain so powerful I couldn't close my mouth.
All I wanted was my Mommy, but there's no Mommy.
And now I really miss you and Rae and Mensch and Daddy, because I know you KNOW.
Posted by: Nathan | January 31, 2008 7:01 PM