It’s just another day…and I’ve found another way

I have a few of those days.

Remembering days.

Sad days mostly because I’m remembering the day they went away.  The last time I saw them. The last time I kissed them, held their hands, heard them laugh, made them laugh.

Anniversaries – but not the ones you celebrate – the anniversaries of when they went away.

It’s just another day.

I had one recently, one of these anniversaries.  It was the 27th year since my Mum went away.  I have others of course, like the one when my Dad went away.

But this one was for me to remember my Mum.  It’s not like I don’t think about her every single day, but this day, I really tried hard to remember her.

 

Smitten Dad, Proud Mum, sleepy me!

And it was hard.  It was hard because after 27 years, I think I might be forgetting her.  I could remember the day she died.  I could remember parts of the funeral. I was wearing her wedding band, my Dad was holding my hand and spinning the ring around and around on my finger. Sometimes I can still feel that.  I could remember the pain, my heart broken open with no hope of mending.  I could remember certain things about her, certain times, but they seem to be fading.

I hate that they seem to be fading.  It upsets me more that I’m having trouble picturing her face, than it is that it’s the anniversary of her death.  I feel myself start to panic – I try so hard to picture her face – her expressions, her smile.

The day goes on.

It’s just another day.

I know that every year on these days, when life just goes on, a part of me wants to scream at everyone going about their normal day, “Don’t you realise what today is, don’t you realise how much I still miss her?  Just because I don’t talk about it, just because it’s been so long, that doesn’t mean I’m not hurting.  She deserves to be remembered!”.

But I don’t – because it’s just another day.

I feel the fragile stitches that hold my heart together start to unravel, and the tears flow.  They do every year, but this year, they’re flowing because I worry that the memory of her is disappearing.  Not many other people remember it’s today.  Most of my friends never met her.  Even I’m having trouble picturing her face, having trouble really remembering her, and I’m her daughter.

 

Looking so happy…as she mostly did

It’s just another day.

It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen her smile, touched her, hugged her, and heard her laugh.  It’s too young to die, 42, and I was too young to have her taken away.  I’ve lived more than half my life without her.  There is so much I want to share with her – every day for the past 27 years.

It’s a really hard day, but the time in that day passes and as it does, I stop trying so hard to picture her face, and to remember her.  I get caught up in the activities of my day.

It’s just another day.

And then I realise, that it’s not the image of her in my mind, not the fading memories of my childhood or the old fading photographs that keep her alive.  She is actually in me, she lives on as a part of me.  Every time I see, do or feel, she is seeing, doing and feeling, because she is me.  I am her.  We can’t be separated – even by death.

I feel her, I sense her. I am her.

Because I’m here, able to make choices, and I am healthy and well, I owe it to her to live my life in the best way I can.  After all, she’s along for the ride.  She is me.

Instead of chasing what’s gone, I’m embracing what’s here.  Me.  I’m here and if I’m here, so is she.

It’s just another day.

And I’ve found another way.

What are you choosing today – embracing what’s here or chasing what’s gone?

“Let your life be your message” Mahatma Gandhi

5 thoughts on “It’s just another day…and I’ve found another way”

  1. Oh shit Chelle, you made me cry. Happy tears and sad tears. You know that’s also my biggest fear is not remembering, not remembering those little moments, those little looks, those words, those thoughts of our loved ones. As time goes on it really really doesn’t take the pain away, it’s just that we are doing other things. The anniversary of the day you lose a loved one is so painful and no one can understand until they’ve walked in your shoes. Need a hug really soon. Love you. K

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