Catching My Breath

Today, like every day since I gave my mum a smartphone three years ago, I picked up my phone to send her a text. Every day I would text her to see how she was doing, send a pic of the snow or the rain so she could appreciate the warm tropical climate she lived in 3,000 miles away. I’ll send her photos and videos of her grand pups and kits so she could see their little antics. I would send photos of the different flowers as they bloomed.

And today, like every other day for the past two months, I go to text her and I am slapped back into reality and remember that she is no longer on the other end of that phone as she passed away two months ago, and the hurt all comes flooding back in. Nothing at all ever prepares you for the loss of your mother.

I was close to my mum. She was a hard working, single mother that brought up three boys on her own and we all came out fine. She was funny and she was fair. Everybody loved her.

I was planning to visit her and bought my ticket to go back, but she decided it was time to go four weeks before that scheduled visit.

Going back to my birth-land for the funeral was sureal. With my mother’s passing I had no more connection to the land. The house in which I spent my childhood and teenage years was now a business of some sort and the house I spent my early adult hood was now completely renovated, unrecognizable and occupied by another family.

That visit back for my mum’s funeral was not only to bid her farewell but to say goodbye to my birth land as well.

When my plane left to head back to New York, I realized that it was probably my last time in that land and because I no longer had any connections other than my in-laws, who incidentally I adore, I felt free in some odd way.

The period between her passing and the funeral was three weeks and those weeks were stressful making arrangements and dealing with family before the funeral. The funeral was stressful but we had a lovely reception that my amazing wife wife arranged at a nearby hotel that was really very nice.

From the time she passed, I felt such a weight on my chest. I was not sleeping, my breathing was short, constant headaches. But the minute I landed back in New York after the funeral, late on a cold rainy night, I felt free and so glad to be back home. I was able to take a deep delicious breath for the first time in weeks, and once again I was able to just breathe.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Somehow the usual words about condolences etc. just don’t seem right. Looks like you had a great relationship with your Mum and you will always miss her but continue breathing because you’ve already found your peace. I wish you and yours much joy.

    Liked by 1 person

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