Last updated on October 26th, 2019
October 2019 Update: It’s been two years and I still haven’t been able to write more about this process of dealing with my mother’s death. It still hurts and most days I try not to dwell. My mother had moved to Oregon before her passing, so most days I just pretend she’s still out there, even though she is sitting in my living room in a little container that I have not been able to bring myself to look at since it arrived. I still catch myself wanting to call her or thinking about what I am going to get her for Christmas.
I really hate that word, death. It is so final or at least what we have associated the word to mean is so final, an ending. I prefer transitioned, gone home, moved on, is in a better place, anything but that word death. The hardest part is putting that word death in a sentence with your mother. Mom has died. It looks so terrible even written. So short and final. Three words that change the lives of generations.
I felt the need to let you know about my mother’s passing but it is still too raw to really write about. It has been a week and I still have to put it out of my mind and deal with it in little pieces. Being an only child, I am required to handle all the final expenses, preparations, bills, estate, etc. It is very hard to deal with my grief while I’m trying to figure out how I am supposed to pay for all this since she had no life insurance. My daughter set up a go fund me type thing called you caring through my Facebook to try to raise the money. Here’s the link. You can help by giving and sharing on social media.
I felt the need to let you, my readers and friends, know what was going on. I felt the need to notify you, my online family. Notify the family…. telling my children their last living grandparent had died. Their grandmother, Grandma, G-mama, confidant, and friend was gone was devastating. Even though my children are now adults, I am their mother and I want to shield them from pain not inflict it upon them. Those phone calls were the worst. Then I had to tell my uncle, my mother’s only sibling, a man who buried his wife not long ago, that his baby sister died. Sissy, as she was called when she was little was gone.
I plan to write some posts about all this including some how-to’s and maybe a checklist so that other’s in my situation will find some help but for now, I will be using my blog as an escape, a respite, a place to go and not have to be an orphan, a motherless child, a next of kin. So, if subsequent posts seem mindless or frivolous know that I am still in mourning.
We all mourn differently and we all handle the death of our mother in our own way. No one can tell you how to grieve. Click To Tweet