Sarah's Inscriptions

I often find myself asking my friends or family if they can really believe that my mom's gone.  As if they are even remotely close to feeling any way that I feel regarding the topic.  Obviously every life she's touched knows grief now, I'm not denying that, but there is a different level to my grief than to yours.  So if I wake up every day still in complete disbelief that my own mother died, how can you not be also? I have to say, most days I feel quite bad for all of you that stick around and support us grievers.  Sometimes I honestly think that you feel everything we do even more than us.  That is, if you're a griever like me, anyway.  My head knows that my mom died, but my heart or my soul, that little naive piece of me that I have yet to kill in myself, still cannot wrap her head around it.  So I live very much in the middle - I completely understand the concept of death, and yet I cannot believe that she's dead. So I say that I think you feel eve...

August 14, 2021 - One Year When I was 9 years old, my grandpa died, so I thought I knew a lot about grief. When I was 12 years old, my mom was diagnosed with cancer, so I thought I knew a lot about grief. My entire life my parents have been divorced, so I thought I knew a lot about grief. When I was 16, my mom had heart surgery.  The next day, she had a stroke.  She spent almost a month rehabilitating in the hospital, so I thought I knew a lot about grief. When I was 18, my beloved Aunt Diane was diagnosed with cancer, which she later passed from in 2019.  I thought I knew a lot about grief. Throughout 2011 and 2012, my mom spent a lot of time in hospitals.  I saw her bald, frail body in many different rooms that looked exactly the same, so I thought I knew a lot about grief. Only, when I was 9 years old, I didn't cry at my grandpa's funeral.  I had no idea at the time what all of this meant.  Death, and everything that follows.  His funeral was open-c...

 July 28, 2021 - Mom's Birthday Happy 52nd and 1st birthday, Momma. You would have been 53 today.  Instead, you are eternally 52.  And it's your first birthday in heaven, which is so unbelievable.  I hope you're celebrating with today by hugging your beloved dad and drinking all the Coca Cola you desire, the caffeine can't keep you up any longer 💙 I tend to consider myself a pretty good writer, but I honestly could never express my emotions more clearly than Ben Platt has for me through his beautiful song In Case You Don't Live Forever.   I often tell my friend Emily how terrible of a daughter I feel the longer you're gone.  I think of everything I had to pick up doing around the house, and feel awful for not helping you more without your asking.  Sometimes I feel like I'm doing a lot of it alone, and I can't help but feel how full your plate must've been doing it all alone and raising 3 kids. I never ever ever took the time to tell you how much I l...

 July 14, 2021 - 11 Months July 8, 2021 I don't like when the mail says your name.  It feels like you should still be here.  Like you are still here.  It's something that, in my min, the world should know.  Companies shouldn't send you birthday letters.  The mail shouldn't even say your name on it anymore.  The world should honor the fact that you've passed, and also honor my heart in that they've recognized that fact. Don't get me wrong, I will accept every opportunity to talk about mom.  But there are some things that are little triggers to me.  July is her birth month.  August is her death month.  They're so close together...  And now we are already in July, which means August is practically tomorrow, which means I will basically be writing another one of these before I know it for the 1 year anniversary of your death.  1 whole f***ing year.  I don't know how to emotionally handle any of it. July 11, 2021 Last nigh...