Wish me luck.

Today’s my first day back at work and although it’s only for a few hours, I can’t help but feel uneasy. Everyone keeps telling me that things will get easier once I get back into my normal routine of thing, but taking a step out of my car and back into work seems like such a scary step now. I thought I was ready to go back out into the real world and face my new reality, but sitting here thinking about how people are going to ask me about how I’m feeling and how I’m holding up I have to admit I don’t feel like I don’t have the strength for that.

*takes a deep breath and turns off car engine.. it’s time to face the music.

Officially one month

I can’t even form words to describe how I feel today, things just don’t feel real. Has it already been that long? The memory of losing mom is still so fresh on my mind, every time I close my eyes I still relive it all. Today’s gonna be a long day…

Bittersweet

I graduated highschool 6 years ago, and all along I’ve been taking college courses but have struggled to finish my degree. I’ve jumped from university to university even switching my major a couple times too because nothing seemed to be a good fit for me. This morning it felt like all my hopes and dreams were crashing down because the only course I had left to take in order to graduate was completely full. I immediately called my academic advisor begging for her help because I just needed this one thing, I just need to finally graduate.

A few months back I remember sitting down with my mom telling her how excited I was because I was sure this year would be the year I finally graduated college, the year I would finally make my parents proud… As I saw her growing weaker I kept thinking to myself that I just needed a few more months to make it happen. I begged God to give her strength to make it to my graduation, because I just needed to make her proud… And when she passed that was one of the things that started to eat me up inside, I never gave her that proud parent moment… all because I couldn’t get my shit together, all because “nothing seemed to be a good fit.”

Back to the conversation I had with my academic advisor this morning, it was absolutely soul crushing when she told me my graduation might be postponed another semester if I couldn’t register for that class. I didn’t even know what else to say to after that, I just wanted to curl up into a ball and drown into a sea of depression and guilt that even after all this time I couldn’t keep my word… I couldn’t graduate this year like I told mom I would. I hung up the phone and started to spiral, graduation was the only thing I was looking forward to since she passed.

A few hours passed and I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the conversation I had this morning with my advisor, this couldn’t be happening… why did it feel like the world was working against me? God why? Why me?

And then it happened… I looked down at my phone and saw a phone number from Arizona calling me, which meant it had to be my school. “Judy? This is Sandra your advisor calling, I have good new… I spoke to the dean and the professor for the course, I went ahead and enrolled you in for your final course… you can go ahead and apply for graduation. Congratulations!” I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t say or do anything accept thank her over and over again for making it possible. Immediately I texted my sisters to share the good news, I’m still waiting to tell dad later tonight, but the only person I couldn’t tell of course was mom which made things bittersweet. But I can’t help feeling like somehow someway she (mom) was the one who actually made it happen. Thank you mom for always having my back, I’ll be sure to make you proud.

Empty

Empty, because I wasn’t ready to let you go. From the beginning we knew we didn’t have forever, but I still held onto hope that God would give you more time. As the days passed and I saw you grow weaker I knew I had to prepare myself, but nothing could have prepared me for what I’m feeling now. Everyone keeps saying to give it more time that things get better over time, but I don’t think that can ever be true. I don’t think there’s anything that can fill the void of losing you.

Four weeks today

I still can’t really sleep, I toss and turn in my bed trying to get cozy enough to catch some z’s but sleep never lasts for long. I think I spend most of my nights staring into the darkness asking God to make sense of what happened. It’s been 672 hours; 672 hours since I was last able to hear your voice or feel the warm of your skin. If it weren’t for everyone around me I don’t think I’d be able to do anything, let alone remember what day it was. Just like that it’s already been four weeks without you mom. I can’t keep track of how many times I’ve gone through every single photo of you I have saved on my phone. I think my worst fear at this point is forgetting you… time flies by so quickly stopping for no one, I can’t imagine living my life in a world where you’re just a memory. That seems so far fetched to me that my memories of you are all I really have left. How is that ever enough for anyone who is grieving the loss of someone so dear to them? But then again I guess we don’t really have a choice, do we?

I wish you were still here, not that I would want you to be in pain again because I really don’t want that; but because I miss you. I guess that’s even a little selfish to say, isn’t it? To wish you were still here knowing that you were in so much pain…

Mom, I wish more than anything in the world that there was a cure for your cancer; that there were something we could have done to save you. You deserved more.

There’s no guide to grieving.

I still don’t really want to talk about it much. I actually still don’t want to talk to anyone at all. Nothing seems to matter anymore since I saw you take your last breath, but I know if you were here you’d ask me why I’m crying. You’d ask me why I felt like giving up too. Some days it feels too surreal to even be true, other days it feels like I’m drowning and the only person who can save me is you. Mom, because I know you’re watching over me. I just want you to know you don’t have to worry, I’ll learn to be okay again… one day. Right now reality feels so far out of reach, and I keep looking around as if I’m going to catch of glimpse of you somewhere. As if I’m finally going to wake up from this nightmare and you’ll be here with us. The worse part being that this isn’t a nightmare, this is reality… you’re really gone and you’re never going to come back… I miss you more with each passing moment and my heart aches for you. Because I know you’d want me to be strong (just as you were) I decided if I can’t talk about it, then maybe I should at least try to write it down somewhere… so here I am learning to live without you.