Seven Months

I've been thinking about mom, grief, moms in general, and I thought I would share a few thoughts.
It feels so hard to lose a mom--I have felt disconnected from others--from life, and after I thought about it some, I realized that it centers on who moms typically are. Moms hold all our memories, from the very beginning--they know us from in utero to our first cries and hunger. A mom holds all of that--ponders it and keeps it in her heart, just as Mary the mother of Jesus did.
And I lost that. I lost that repository of memory and hope and love. Lost the person who would see and understand the similarities between my child self and my son.
And when that pondering heart ceases beating, it feels like a severed connection--a loss of anyone on earth who has truly known and loved me.
Of course, there are many who love me, but losing a mom is a connection lost with time, with the world. Now all the burden of memory is on me--not just to remember my own life but hers.
A heavy post, I know, but thoughts I had and wanted to share, and express. Saying the thing names it, makes it real, and releases the weight.
My dad played a classic toasting song called, "The Parting Glass,"* and the last lines have helped me cry and understand and hope:
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I'll gently rise and I'll softly call
Good night and joy be with you all

The last non-comfort/health/pain thing my mom said to my sister and I was this: " You know how much I love you girls." We knew. We know. We will remember. And Joy will be with us all always.


*I recommend The Wailin' Jennies version.