So…it’s been a minute. My last blog entry was at the end of July. A lot has happened since then. Like, A LOT. I’ve been wanting to jump back into blogging and have tried more than once, but I know there’s something that needs to be addressed before I start “normal” posts again. It simply wouldn’t feel right if I went on in this thing as though a significant life event had not occurred. So I’ll talk about it and I’ll probably cry while I do so, but I’ll talk about it. I feel like I have to.
Besides moving twice since July - yeah, you read that right. Don’t even ask. - and really wrestling with sudden and inexplicable bouts of depression, the end of summer/beginning of fall were already a lot to handle. I was missing family, missing friends in NH. I missed going to church and seeing people in general. I wasn’t feeling like me some days, and I was having a really hard time. In September it got a whole lot worse.
Most people know by now that my mom passed away suddenly and unexpectedly late September 2. We knew she was sick, had been sick for close to two years, and wasn’t in her best condition. But she was still “okay.” So when I got the call from my brother that night telling me she was gone, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Some days I still don’t. It’s been almost two months and it still feels like I just talked to her yesterday. But it also feels like she’s been gone for so long.
Before I moved I had people, family, insinuating that my decision to leave NH was selfish. Mom was sick. Who was going to take care of her? Who was going to take care of my dad if anything happened to her? Guilt tried to change my mind but in the end, I made the decision I felt was right. Ultimately, Mom helped me come to peace with that decision. She wasn’t thrilled I was moving in with my boyfriend. Many weren’t and didn’t have a problem telling me so and why. But in the moment I wrestled most with it, a moment after I was already gone, Mom told me to stop it. She asked if I was happy, if I was as healthy as I could be, and if Conrad was treating me right. I said yes to all of the above, and her exact words were, “Then stop it.” Meaning stop feeling guilty.
The night she died, all that guilt came rushing back ten fold, and it hasn’t really left. It’s changed as the days have passed, taking on different monikers, sometimes faces. I feel guilty for not being there when it happened. I feel guilty for not being there for my dad now. I feel guilty for making my brother take Mom’s place as Dad’s caretaker, and for making him take over in general, especially when work isn’t cooperating, hours aren’t adding up, and they’re having trouble paying rent. I feel incredibly guilty. I’m trying not to, but I’ve always been the caretaker. And not being there, being unable to help, makes me feel awful.
And I miss my mom. So. Much. We didn’t always have the best relationship, and goodness knows we didn’t always see eye to eye, but she was my mom. There hasn’t been a day since she died that I haven’t thought of her. In the past few weeks I’ve started having the daily urge to call her. Like, you’d think after a few days my brain would catch on, but no. I’ll be making dinner, walking the dog, or even writing, and my brain will go, “I haven’t heard from Mom in awhile. I should call her.” It’s a split second thought that I can never catch quick enough and it always hurts.
Basically, I’m a mess. I’m still here, but I’m a mess. Every day, to some degree. I’m still writing, in fact I’ve actually started a brand new thriller project, but it’s also a mess. I’m trying to get back into a good writing schedule, trying to get back into working on the podcast, trying to allow myself good days and not feel guilty for those. But it’s hard.
In two weeks I’ll be back in NH for an early Thanksgiving with the family. I’d already made plans to go with Conrad for the actual Thanksgiving and had discussed it with Mom some time ago. Growing up, we hardly ever celebrated holidays on the actual day she she didn’t care if it was early. I wasn’t planning on going back up so soon after being there for her service, but someone incredibly generous bought me a ticket back, no questions asked and no strings attached. Hopefully because of that I’ll be able to get back for Christmas.
Anyway, this is starting to turn into a personal journal ramble and I have always wanted to try to keep this blog semi-professional. I just wanted to let everyone know where I’ve been, where I am now, and where things are hopefully going. Thank you all for understanding my silence and sticking with me. You don’t know how much I appreciate it. Hopefully normal blogs will resume sometime soon.