It’s normal for there to be highs and lows in life, right?
One of the many, unfortunate normals of life, I suppose.
There are some changes happening in my life, and I’m happy about them. For different reasons, including selfish ones. But I’ve found as they become closer and closer to taking place, it also makes me long to have my mother here. I wonder if I’m the only one or if my sister feels the same way. I’m sure she does.
I made a trip home recently. I usually don’t like going home…and tend to shy away from large family gatherings. As nice as these things are (I’ve written before), they tend to remind me more that my mother isn’t (t)here. This time was different though. We stayed with different people throughout the week. There was a fairly large family gathering. There was also some family drama (of course lol). But it was good. It was the first time, in a long time, that it wasn’t awful being home. I guess that’s good. I’m sure it is..and I’m sure that means something.
But right now…I’ve given myself a timeframe for accomplishing things I want to do. One way or another it involves me moving this time next year. My sister is making some changes of her own. I know she’s nervous about it, I would be too. But I think it’s good for her. Change, however, makes us, almost involuntarily, want to look to our parents.
That’s the hard part. Looking for people who aren’t here. Not knowing, at times, who to turn instead. Or knowing, but still..it just not quite being right. For some reason I’m scared about my moments of longing for my mother overwhelms me…in this season of change I’ll be in not-quite-completely-new surroundings. And I’m not sure how I’ll express myself…or if I will. That will be something I’ll have to work on.
I saw the following quote on Goodreads semi-recently:
“A daughter without her mother is a woman broken. It is a loss that turns to arthritis and settles deep into her bones.” – Kristin Hannah, Summer Island
It’s been almost 6 years. SIX years. I still can’t believe it. Almost 2 for my father. My age doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, I’m still a little girl wanting her parents.
I screenshot the quote when I saw it. Sometimes I feel like I’m drawn to sad things. But I don’t need to be reminded of this quote. It actually embodies some of what I read in a book about women whose mothers have died. Quite accurate it is. I think I keep thinking that it’ll get easier the older I get. Even though I know it’s not true. In some ways, it actually seems to be ‘getting’ worse.