I keep forgetting to post this! A few months ago, I stepped out of the shower one day and the mirror in the bathroom was steamed over and just barely starting to melt. Scrawled in the moisture were these letters: IFER. The last four letters of my name. They were clear as day. It wasn't like seeing pictures in the clouds; it was like someone had written them there with their finger. And yes, I believe it was from my mom. It didn't scare me. I asked my boyfriend later on if he had ever written my name in the mirror, and he swore he hadn't. No one else could have done it, and the letters were too clear for me to have imagined it. So now my dad's new nickname for me is Ifer. :) I wish I had thought to take a picture and could kick myself for it!!!
I also realized something recently. For a long time after my mom died (and even now occasionally), I seemed to have an uncontrollable urge to tell everyone she had died. I even told the cashier at a restaurant one time, and the poor girl was only about 16 and had no idea what to say in response (I think I wrote about that before). I just always have to find a way to work it into the conversation when talking to someone new who doesn't know. I always knew that it was like a way to get the elephant out of the room and explain who I am and why...but what I've realized now is that it's also my way of telling people, "My mom existed. She was here. And when she left, the whole world changed. You didn't know her, and your world may not seem any different, but yes, the world is in fact different and a little emptier without her in it." I wish I had more pictures of her. I get teased for taking so many pictures, especially of myself. But it's not a vanity thing. Once someone dies, pictures are one of the only things you have left. I want to preserve all the memories I can of the ones I love, and I also want to leave my mark through pictures as well...one day when I am gone, my child will look at those pictures of me and be comforted by them and dream of what I was like when I was young, and people will know "Jennifer wuz here." :) We existed, and our existence meant a lot. She still exists and we never stop existing...but you know what I mean.
1 comments:
Hi,
I just was searching the internet for support from women who have lost their mothers. I cam across your blog and it is so inspirational. I lost my mother 1 week ago Monday. It was devastating being the only child. I also lost my dad when I was 5 so we were very close. She had polio and always had problems from it but she ended up having some breathing problems and went in and out of the hospital for 3 weeks. Those 3 weeks were like being through hell. Thank God for my aunt and my husband. We all took turns going to the hospital and being there for my mom. In the end she died at 12:20 am when her heart slowed down and she went peacefully at 75 years old. By the end she was suffering, she did not want to live as a burden and kept telling me she was ready to go. It was so hard to hear but somehow I accepted it. The day she died I went to my father's grave to pray and I told him if she wasn't going to get better and she was going to continue to suffer to go to her and take her hand to heaven. That night she died. Then that morning my aunt and I were going through her closet and her touch light came on- this was a light she used each night to sleep by. Then after the wake the next day we got home late. The house was pitch dark and there was her touch lamp on again. I had asked my mom to give me a sign and I definitely got one. I don't know it just gave me such peace. At the funeral I never really felt like she was there. Her body to me just looked like a shell. I keep telling myself that she is with my dad now and that she is no longer in pain or suffering, it is all that gets me through.
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