New Beginnings

Cliche title, but true.

It's been two weeks today since my mother passed. The first week was no less busy than all the weeks before, because even though we didn't have my mother to care for, there was lots to do. This past week is a bit different. It has been about marinating, sleeping, processing, sleeping, crying, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.

Until now, it's been a cycle of being manically productive and "on," then crashing, but then having to pull out of it quickly to be back in the game. All of a sudden, there's no needing to rapidly regroup. Mom isn't waiting for me to recover from a mini-meltdown. I can actually slow down now, which has lead to the craziest development of all: I'm TIRED!

It is an exhaustion that I can only compare to that of a new parent perhaps. No matter how many hours of sleep you get, your body is still reeling from the energy spent for months on end. And the appetite! Where did it come from? I could spend endless hours on the couch, in pajamas, eating egg salad and popcorn. Oh- and cookies. Holidays + Deceased Mother = Mass quantities of cookie deliveries and 5 extra pounds. Bonus.

Emotionally, there have been a few surprises here and there. I got home to my condo after my first shift back on Christmas Eve and was in the best mood. I literally caught myself humming Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer as I walked up to my door. Then out of nowhere, it occurred to me that I would never buy my mother a Christmas present again. Never. Then it spirals in to wishing I'd gotten her an early present this year, or wishing I'd splurged on something better last year, or wishing I'd just done more period. Somehow I always end up back at: did I do everything I possibly could?

This question haunts me. I won't ever know if any of those hundreds of options would have made a difference, all I can try to remind myself is that I did the best I could at the time. Decisions made seemed logical at the time, but now sometimes I wonder. The "what ifs" seem to be my greatest hurdle.

I wish I had the energy to respond to each and every one of you who has reached out to Gwennie and me. The mailbox overflows daily, and I have stacks of unopened cards that I haven't gotten to because I want to give each and every one of them the attention they deserve. The sentiments you've shared about our mother will sustain us, and the compliments you pay to us really aren't so much a reflection of who we are, but further testimony to our mom. We are who we are because of her.

This year has been a tough one, and I was worried about coming home Christmas night to an empty condo after my second day back at work. I got a little teary, but then I remembered last Christmas. I was having a hard day, and within minutes of calling my mom, she and my sister were in the car. Two hours later they arrived with cheese, crackers, and shrimp cocktail in hand. That night we went to downtown Boston and saw Marley & Me. A movie on Christmas night had been a family tradition for years. As we exited the theatre, Mom and I just trailed right behind Gwennie as she happened to turn in to another theatre playing Doubt which happened to be starting at that very moment, and before we knew it, we were having a two for one night at the movies. The one and only time I'd ever done this was with my mother: Housesitter and Sister Act. I will never forget it. This made me smile.