I could fill this post easily with memories of my mom. One of my earliest though would take me back to elementary school. I don't know what grade I was in but we had an assignment that everyone gets at least once - Who is your hero? I was young enough that almost everyone put their parents but I really thought my mom was my hero. I knew she was an immigrant and struggled with English. She worked full time and cooked dinner and raised three kids and probably never slept. She hosted parties and exercised and danced and loved us so hard. It just seemed like she did it all and loved it. I can still picture her now making dinner in her short shorts and thinking "no one else's mom wears this or looks like this."
As I revisited the topic through out my life, my mom would continue to be my hero. From the first time she got breast cancer (before I could even wrap my head around what that was), to traveling the world by herself, to being a little woman with the biggest attitude, to fighting a life that didn't always meet her expectations, and to fighting and fighting and fighting a cancer that just would not quit.
My mom just had SO MUCH about her. She made such an impression on people. My friends always told me how feisty she was and how when they met her, they understood everything about me. I am demure in comparison to my mom. And my friends LOVED her. During a cancer remission, she came to visit me in San Francisco. A friend was having a party and I told her I couldn't go because my mom was visiting. "Bring her!" my friend said and ended up inviting a couple other moms as well so she'd have parents to talk to. My mom socialized with the other parents for a little while but was very excited to get to know all of my friends. Age didn't matter to her and she quickly won over all their affections by sharing embarrassing memories of me.
Memories are such a special thing. I wish there really was a pensieve for memories so I could keep them for later. I have loved all the memories of my mom that people have shared with me these past weeks. My mom was such a character, the memories just always make me smile. From some incidents while she was learning English to wine-filled girls nights, my mom left people with so many happy memories and I can't possibly be sad when I hear such things.
My mom left all of us with the best of her. She was highly critical of us - she always strived for perfection and wanted it from us as well. She taught all of us kids to cook and to keep our homes in presentable shape and to dress well. I don't think any of us come close to the standard she set but we are always trying. She taught me that it's ok to have 100 hobbies and some of my favorite crafts like stitching came from stumbling across the projects she gave up when she had kids. Above all, the trait she past down the most was her love of hosting. All three of us enjoy entertaining and we hope to really keep that legacy going more than anything else. My brothers and I already have plans to entertain at the family house so that we really honor that memory of her.
I've also learned through this process that I have surrounded myself with amazing people. I've had so many friends reach out, call, send flowers, or visit. No matter how much time or distance has come between us, people have come out in all different ways to show their support and that is so touching. My mom also had just the best friends. So many people offered to help our family and assist with the service. And losing the key link in a chain - it's confusing. Our family has definitely considered that we may not see some of these people again without our mom, but talking to them this past week, they seemed just as concerned that we wouldn't want to keep in touch with them. Even in her passing, my mom has been connecting people, and I know we hope to stay close with all of her family and friends.
So how am I doing?
Well, that's a really hard question to answer. A lot of the time, I feel ok- just a little emptier and little sadder. It doesn't feel like my mom is gone because it doesn't feel like it's been enough time. It feels like she's on vacation, a trip to Brazil, where she's just hard to reach but will be back soon. It's going to take some time for this to sink in. The times it hurts the most are when I think about the future. I will have kids that won't know my mother. I will never get another birthday card or call from my mom. I can't even imagine the holidays. That's when I realize the permanence of what has happened. But on a day to day basis - I'm ok. Sometimes my parents' house feels a little too quiet, but even then, there is an echo of someone calling me to set the table or use just the right dish. I grabbed some seasonings the other day and could imagine her saying "omg not those!"
Grief is such a weird thing. You never know how it will hit you. My mom was so sick and in so much pain for so long. I would often leave my visits from her house and cry the whole drive home so I came to peace with the inevitable a while ago. I would have loved for my mom to live forever and especially to meet her daughter's children and maybe even to move in with us some day. That was my dream life, but I knew it wasn't likely so I've been grieving for my mom for a long time. She is finally at peace and no longer in pain and there is some relief for everyone in that. But the house is quiet and the memories are fresh and it stings when something interesting happens and I want to share it with her.
I don't know what my future holds but I know what it doesn't and that's the hardest thing about all of this.
