There has been a distinct lack of posts lately. My mom’s health suddenly took a turn for the worse, she went into the hospital and she died shortly after. We went through all of the conflicting emotions of the loss of a very loved mom whose mind and body were failing. Difficult doesn’t begin to describe it. Sometimes the simplest things were the most difficult. Signing the hospice paper was an emotional avalanche. In the hospital or at home, I was there almost every day. Her mental condition deteriorated until no one could manage it. She ended up in hospice house and died in less than 24 hours.

Afterwards was the rush of preparing for a funeral while in emotional shock, notifying people, travel, beds. Youngest sister did most of it.

Since then I wash back and forth in waves of different emotions. Guilt, sadness, guilt, missing her, guilt.

For the first two weeks it seemed like she came to mind from minute. We’d spent so much time together over the past seven years. Seven years of Sundays. Sunday lunch with Mom was a big part of the clock that measured my time. I saved up everything that happened in my life so we would have something to talk about. That will probably be the only thing I’m grateful to Trump for. He was an endless topic of conversation.

I’ve lost my best cheerleader, too. She could be relied on to be happy about every positive thing that happened in my life.

So I’m feeling a bit untethered. I wasn’t aware of how much ‘what Mom would think of that’ there was in my life until there wasn’t the mom-wall for it to bounce off of.

I feel like I’ve lost a refuge. Someplace I could go if I really had to. Someone I could talk to.