Marking the Occasion
The one about life milestones, and the impact of loss.
Next month, I’m moving. My husband and I did what feels like a big, grown-up thing: we bought a house, our first time owning anything you can live in.
(He’s barred me from saying, “We did a thing!” but….. we did do a thing.🤷♀️)
It feels like one of those milestone-y moments. One of those celebratory life events you write about in your diary, if you’re a diary-writing kinda person (I’m not), and that you’d take photos of and cheers to with something fizzy, and circle on your calendar in colored markers. Special. Significant. Something to be remembered.
So far, though, it doesn’t feel quite real. I sort of feel like I’m watching someone else’s life, like maybe it won’t sink in til I’m knee-deep in cardboard boxes and bubble wrap, or the moving truck has pulled into the driveway. Even still, I’m not sure that’ll be enough.
Before I lost my mom, she was the person I called with all my news, good or bad. She was the first person I’d share anything I was proud of or excited about, and the keeper of all my secrets and worries. Nothing ever felt truly real til she knew about it, and nothing felt manageable until she’d patiently listened to my plans and my concerns.
I am a person who makes lists, who plans to the umpteenth degree. The one with the back-up plans and the details and the check lists. I used to always be focused on the finish line, though now, I don’t really know what to do with myself when I get there. Suddenly nothing feels particularly special. Achievements don’t have the same sparkle, goals the same allure. Seemingly *big* things, like buying a house, getting a promotion, not only don’t feel as real or as important, but also… I don’t know — they feel almost like they shouldn’t be happening. Like they’re too late. The person I needed to share them with, she can’t come to the phone right now. My biggest cheerleader and support system, she’s not available. Indefinitely otherwise occupied.
Sometimes I think to myself: hey, you’re an adult, you shouldn’t need someone else to validate your achievements, or help mark your special occasions. 2.5 years later, shouldn’t I be past wondering what my mom would think? Wondering if she’s proud of me, hoping she can see it all, wherever she is. Wishing she’d call me and tell me everything is good. But I’m not. Maybe I never will be. And you know, maybe I’m biased, but 36 still feels too young to be motherless.
I think about how it will feel to hit one of the next grown-up milestones — having a kiddo — and how if/when that time comes, I want to be the sort of mom she was… but then I wonder how. How could I possibly even attempt it without her being at least a text message away? It feels impossible, and wrong.
Sometimes I wonder who I am anymore, as if my past, present and future all are hiding in the pocket of my mom’s favorite black sweater, far, far away.
But then I remind myself that there she is, every time I spot the hummingbirds living in my new backyard. Every time I tear up watching a video of a dog or something ridiculous and realize how much more like her I’ve become, in small ways I don’t even realize. I remember that she would have wanted me to continue living and growing and having those life moments. Choosing myself, and choosing love. And she’d say something stupid, like that she’d haunt me if I decided to stop doing the things I cared about just because she wasn’t around. And then she’d laugh, like always — a deep belly laugh. When she left a room, the echos of her laugh always stayed behind.
So, I’ll move into the house. Plant roots in a new city. Think about what’s next. And I’ll continue to hope that wherever my mom is, she’s watching, so excited for me. And in the meantime, I’ll be excited for me too.
+++++
Sometimes grief pops its head up to say hi, blurring the lines between the happy and the bittersweet. That’s where I’m at right now, and if you’re there too, I see you.
I hope you have a wonderful weekend! If you’re looking for something to listen to, I am still not done being obsessed with this album (as well as the one I linked in my post from last Friday!).
Thanks for reading,
Joelle
Congrats on the new house!!! That is so exciting!!! Your last two newsletters have brought me to tears. The way you write about grief is so poignant and touching. Sending you hugs.