the brief moment of peace before he realized what was happening and the panic set in. I'm screaming, crying, and throwing up
this show is the bane of my existence but idk. Fivey
do you ever get so art blocked you bust out 3 redraws 1 day????
I ignored a lot of people today. It wasn't by choice but necessity. I miss my mother. I want to shout it from the rooftops. I want to whisper it to her in hopes that she'll hear me. I wonder if she floats by without my realizing it, if she's in a stream of sunlight or on a bird's wing. I ask God and the angels to make sure she's happy wherever she is, and every time I make the request, I cry.
I received a half dozen concerned text messages today that all carried the same sentiment. I'm being thought of. Heart emojis. Prayers. I appreciated them all.
It's odd being the woman who lost her mother on Mother's Day in an unexpected and subsequently traumatic way. I'm always remembered for the awful phone calls I had to make that afternoon, where I sounded more numb than devastated. It took me more than a year for the numbness to wear off, and now, on the second year, the loss feels a bit like an open wound.
I never want to talk much about it, even with the people who love me. I never want to talk much about it, especially with the people who love me. And it's not because I don't love them back. I do. I love them. I am grateful for their concerns, but it always breaks my heart when they're at a loss for words. It always breaks my heart when they look at me with sad eyes, so sometimes, locking the thoughts away or sharing them with the void seems easier. No one has to fill the space. I don't have to fill the space.
Tonight, I'm thinking of everyone that's lost their mothers. Someone recently said to me that I'm one of the lucky ones. They said, at the very least, I had a mother for more than thirty years of my life, and yes, that's true. I have gratitude in my heart for having had my mother, but that doesn't lessen the pain of having lost her. It doesn't erase the memory of how scared she was in those final moments, how I was there for everything. It doesn't change the fact that I wish she could be here, that we had more time, that I could have righted certain wrongs.
I miss my mother. Though I sometimes wonder if she visits, I almost hope that she doesn't. I hope she's free. I hope she's happy. I hope she's found the peace that was so difficult for her to find in recent years. I hope she knows, for all of our differences, that I loved her, that I was there until the very end.
