The dress that I wore to my mother’s funeral is still in a ball in my closet. It’s on the top shelf and to the left. The black tights I wore with it are still intertwined in there somehow too. Every Friday when I came home from work, I cleaned my closet. I hung up what didn’t need to be washed, threw the clothes that did need to be washed into the laundry basket, and straightened the rest of the clothes on the two shelves. But I always leave the dress right there. In a ball.
There is really no good reason why I don’t just pick it up and hang it. I don’t feel like if I touch it that I’m going to cry or break down….I just don’t want to. I’m not sure if I’ll ever wear it again or not.
When I put a request out to twitter for my need of a funeral black dress and not wanting to even go there myself, the response was….way more than what I expected. I had private messages offering to send me dresses, I had personal emails filled with links of any kind of black dress you could imagine (even discount links and free shipping). I was so grateful.
I’m not sure I ever thanked anyone of you who offered to ship me dresses or who sent me those links.
Today I went to my private messages on FB today to send a message to a friend and I was met with her previous message to me. It was a sweet, kind personal message about the death of my mom and how she coped with the death of her mom and I realized I never responded.
I know in situations like that most people are understanding but I guess I didn’t realize how much of a fog I was in until I was here. On the other side of the fog. I spent all of November crying. I spent all of December and half of January just angry. I knew that I was sad, I knew that I was angry but I didn’t realize how angry until now.
It reminds me of right after I had Luke. I had terrible postpartum but I didn’t know it was terrible until it was over. And until I had Gavin and I had zero postpartum and I looked back and thought, “Wow, I was not okay.”
I’m okay now. I really am. I’m still sad sometimes, I still miss her, the tears are still there. But I’m not mad that the world is moving on. It will always be sad for me that my mom didn’t deserve to live a certain way or that she didn’t get to be the grandma she wanted to be or that we didn’t get to have an adult relationship as mother and daughter but I’m finally to a place where I can accept that it wasn’t how it was supposed to be anyway. There’s no one to blame and no one to be mad at.
So I just wanted to say it now in case I didn’t say it then, thank you.