Friday, May 20, 2011

On Being Motherless

Heavy title, no?

Well. Not to be overdramatic, but planning a wedding without a mom blows. Or, perhaps more specific to my situation, planning a wedding without a mom once you move past the drama with the family members still living is really really shitty and hard.

When I first started talking to my therapist about proposing to Lindsey, she cautiously questioned me about how making these life changes might feel without my mom. It certainly was a valid question, but I didn't have much to say about it other than "I don't know". Grief is a funny thing that way--sometimes it creeps up for seemingly insignificant moments, and sometimes I'm surprised by how numb I feel in the bigger moments. For the first several weeks of being engaged, I felt only joy. Well, that's not true. I felt rage and hurt because of misunderstandings with some family members--but I was able to keep that pretty compartmentalized, and mostly felt only joy and excitement.

A week ago, all of those misunderstandings were cleared up. We're moving forward, and I felt so relieved to leave all of the hurt behind. I was ready for the endless stream of inane but oh-so-fun discussions about centerpieces and escort cards. I've spent so much time overwhelmed and sad because of the state of the world, and I'm excited to have an excuse (not that I ever needed one) to let myself focus on something happy--and yes, shallow.

And I am having those conversations. I'm obsessively consuming advice and inspiration from all over the internets, and throwing idea after random idea at Linds to hear her input. But I'm also sad. Really sad. I'm missing my mom more than I have in a decade. I'm used to tough days--Mother's Day, her yahrzeit, a holiday, a graduation. I'm not used to tough weeks. I'm not used to feeling her absence this profoundly. I miss her in a way that makes everything feel bittersweet.

But I also think this is good. It's painful and sucky and frustrating, but it's also comforting to know that she's with me through this--even if it's in a different form than either of us would like.

1 comment:

  1. Diana,

    I am reading this with tears STREAMING down my face. In a Starbucks. Totes adorbs, except not at all. I am so sorry that you are feeling this loss so profoundly right now and I am even sorrier that there is nothing I can do to help -- this is a terrible feeling. However, I am THRILLED to have inane conversations with you (and less inane ones as well). I can't wait to help you with the planning in whatever way is most helpful and supportive, and I CANNOT WAIT to celebrate the wonderful love you and Lindsey have on 10/6/12.

    I love you more than words can ever begin to express.

    Virtual hug for now, with double that in real hugs in one month!