Today is the 6th anniversary of my Mother's death. Although I function better these days, my grief over her loss is pervasive and continuous. I know she wasn't perfect. I know that some of her faults were great. Not all my memories are good ones.
But, as I've said before, I discovered after she was gone that she was my reference point. When she died, I lost my identity. It had been just the two of us for nineteen years, and she lived with me the last five. And most of that last five, I was her caregiver.
She's part of me, beyond the fact that she gave birth to me. I miss her every day. I start to call her several times a week. And every day, I'm mired in guilt.
I know she's in Heaven. I know we'll be reunited. If I didn't have that certainty, I wouldn't have gone on without her.
"Address in the Stars"
by Caitlin and Will
I stumbled across your picture today
I could barely breathe
The moment stopped me cold,
Grabbed me like a thief.
I dialed your number, but you wouldn't be there
I knew the whole time, but it's still not fair
I just wanted to hear your voice,
I just needed to hear your voice.
What do I do with all I need to say
So much I wanna tell you everyday
Oh it breaks my heart,
I cry these tears in the dark
I write these letters to you,
But they get lost in the blue,
'Cause there's no address in the stars.
Now I'm drivin'
Through the pitch black dark
I'm screaming at the sky
Oh cause it hurts so bad
Everybody tells me
Oh all I need is time
Then the mornin' rolls in
And it hits me again
And that ain't nothin' but a lie.
What do I do with all I need to say
So much I wanna tell you every day
Oh it breaks my heart,
I cry these tears in the dark
I write these letters to you,
But they get lost in the blue,
'Cause there's no address in the stars.
Without you here with me,
I don't know what to do.
I'd give anything
Just to talk to you
Oh it breaks my heart,
Oh it breaks my heart,
All I can do
Is write these letters to you,
But there's no address in the stars.
Dearest Mother, I remember you.
Addendum: Right now, at 1:00 p.m. CST, I'm right back in that hospital room in ICU, holding her hand and sobbing my heart out. Family surrounds me. Mother's already been unconscious for 5 hours due to the morphine drip. Every conversation, every word we shared during the night is cycling through my mind. The last thing I said to her this morning before she fell asleep is, "I won't leave you!" And I guess I never have.