Memories Bring Back You

The bulletin board in my kitchen is covered with photos of loved ones who have passed. The photos remind me of happy times, sweet memories and the old adage, You Only Live Once! There's a lot of living on my collage.

Tucked in amongst the array is a cherished photo of me with my mom aboard our Alberg 34, s/v Mystic. Mom visited us when we were docked in Westerly, Rhode Island. I never expected that she'd come aboard as she wasn't comfortable on the water. This small gesture of interest in my life stands out for me. During this time, she was struggling with health issues. I wonder if memory loss allowed her to forget her fear.

Mom slipped away last April. She was ready to wrap things up and join all her friends that were waiting at heaven's door; even if we were not. Life goes on, as it should. Things have changed due to her absence but I feel her presence and hear her voice often, especially when I need it most. A couple months after her death, my sister sent me one of Mom's old voice messages that she'd saved. I gasped when I heard mom say, "I'm still here!"

I am reminded, often daily, that my mother is no longer with us, but I see and feel her everywhere. I was making my bed when I realized that every bed in my house has a beautiful hand made afghan that was meticulously crocheted by my mother. I look at her perfectly uniform stitches and remember watching her hands as she created these heirloom works of art. I am quickly consumed with a flood of other memories that make me sad before they fill me with joy and warm me with the sense of her love for her family. I still feel that love!

I find myself doing silly things that make me feel closer to her, like adding a splash of Fabulosa to my laundry. It's like I'm proving that she taught me well and that I was a good learner. Her influence is everywhere.

I had a routine of calling my mom every day at around the same time. For a long time after she passed, I was heartbroken to walk face first into the reality that she was not there to pick up the phone. It's not that I forgot that she was gone. It's more that I desperately wanted her to always be there, my greatest fan, my sounding board where I could say anything without judgement; she was my safe place.

I've come to realize that feelings of grief and love are similar, except grief includes the added complication of loss. Over this past year, my grief has evolved from debilitating pain into a trigger that leads me to happy thoughts of her, like the day she visited our boat.

My grief can be overwhelming, but it comes with wonderful and funny memories that bring her back to me. When I am overcome with sadness I hear my mom's voice telling me, "Don't be sad, I'm just acting my age!" In her own way, she tried to tell me that dieing is a part of life. 

I've come to accept grief. It still hurts that she is gone but I smile when I think of her. Memories of her are sweet and remind me of how lucky I am to have had her at all.

Mom aboard Mystic