Griefaries: Nine

This morning, as I rolled out of bed, I intentionally hit the right hand on my Build-A-Bear.  I genuinely wanted to hear my mom's voice, for reasons that I can't even explain, but sometimes explanations offer no real solace anyway.

The entire message played straight through - a silly voicemail about tiny gnats surrounding my car.  Mom found this incredibly peculiar I guess, because she thought it warranted a phone call.  Lord only knows where I was or what I was doing that day that left me not answering, ultimately sending her to voicemail.  Sometimes it is difficult for me to accept that I have any voicemails from her at all, because that just implies that I was too busy to speak to her.  My own mother!  I could laugh at loud with how ridiculous a sentence that is.  Now truly, some people are genuinely busy and unable to answer phone calls, but still.  However, I'm also glad that I have something concrete to hang onto.  If I had picked up that day, who's to say I'd have any recollection of what we even talked about.  And there certainly wouldn't be recorded evidence of her existence on my phone, which would be unfathomable.

All this to say, that when the first run-through came to an end, I immediately pressed on the hand again.  "Hi, this is mom.  *Whispering* Why are you whispering on your message?  *Laughs*"  My heart could burst just typing this out.  My eyes are already welling with tears.  Yet a second time was not sufficient, and I pushed it a third.  At this point, something within me was so confused that she had even existed.  It feels like a fever dream sometimes to think that she was real, and physical, and mine.  Obviously, the human race only continues and continues due to a mother who gives birth to a child, so naturally I would have one.  But somehow, even only at less than 3 years gone, I can't believe she was ever even here...

I pushed the hand for a fourth and final time.  This last listen through nearly got me to cry, which is ultimately why I stopped pressing the hand and clambered out of bed.  Contrary to my last paragraph, this listen through had me grieving this person that I knew so well.  Inexplicably well.  On a soul level that, I believe, only mothers and their birth-children have.  I started to remember everything about her that I didn't even think I had a memory of.  I could physically hear her voice coming out of her mouth.  I could embrace her body.  I could feel her unspoken and powerful love.  I could see her gorgeous face, a face that had some features she found too large or too protrusive.  She was beautiful to me, inside and out.  And beyond brave.  So strong and selfless.  The most prominent human I had ever known.  And she is gone.

Every. Single. Time. that I remember that fact, it breaks my heart a bit more.  I miss you terribly, momma dearest.  I love you unconditionally, even though this distance really feels like it's testing my ability to do so.  I so desperately wish that you were still the physical you that I remember so well, and simultaneously seem to forget something about daily.  Life was hard for you, and it was hard with you, but without you is a completely different game.  I have begged to forfeit plenty of times, fully knowing it is not even remotely close to the end.  

I hope you're enjoying your time up there with all the family and friends that proceeded you.  And I also hope that there is enough room for me right next to you when the game finally ends and I'm in your arms again.

<3 Sarah