Enduring Loss

It's been 9 years 2 months and 17 days since I got the the call that my mother had had a massive hemorrhagic stroke and was in the hospital in a coma. To say it was a life changing event is to put it mildly. Other than the day I laid eyes on my husband, there has not been any one event that has changed my life so completely. At the time, people said it would get easier but what does that mean exactly?

Is it easier to go through the motions of life without maternal validation? No. Is it easier to lose two children in infancy without the comfort of your mother's arms around you and to hear the wisdom that came from her own experiences? No. Is it easier to make your own way through Motherhood with the advice of the one person that you trusted more than anything in the universe? No.

So what exactly gets easier? Well, I suppose telling time gets easier. Well gee lets see...was Mom alive when that happened or not? Yes, then it was before 2006.

I thought moving away would be easier. If my mother (parents) were not on Long Island anymore, I wouldn't have to live near it. That is only partially true. The moving away was easier, the staying away is worse. Although I do crave isolation, a lot, I also crave friends and family for which the list is getting smaller and smaller. My besties literally live is opposite ends of the country, my sisters are not quite as far but no longer a day trip. Thankfully, I have wonderful in-laws that I love and trust and they are there for me whenever I need them. That is no small blessing!

Of course, it doesn't help with the emptiness that comes from the loss of your parents. Hugs from my amazing husband and daughter can't come fast or often enough but it's not the same as having your mother rides the waves of your life with you or laying your head on your father's broad chest while watching Abbot and Costello on Sunday mornings.

It's just about endurance. I may not be able to run a 5k or pull an all-nighter sexfest anymore, but I do endure the loss of my parents every moment of every day. For that, I am an Olympian.