Today is never easy. I begin dreading it the moment the calendar switches to October and remain in a funk until the day passes. As it turns out being a motherless daughter does not come with a handbook. Each year culminates its own vibe and feeling of loss, always different from the year before. I get a little ache in my heart even entertaining the fact that it has been years…plural.
My mom was a 53-year-old, spitfire redhead named Lisa. Proudly born and raised from Massachusetts and only half enjoying living her days in Maine. She was the wife to my father for over 20 years and had two daughters, two granddaughters and two living grandsons and one who had recently made his way to heaven. She struggled with diabetes, alcoholism and some other things I honestly couldn’t name. And if you think you know the biggest Boston sports fan, you are probably wrong because my mom dedicated her time to keeping up with all of them on television.
I was 22 years old when she passed.
Being a Motherless Daughter
I won’t lie to you and say that our relationship was all puffy clouds and rainbows because it wasn’t. There was a lot of frustration and anger for things that I would rather not get into. This has resulted in a feeling of regret since the day she passed. The mourning of what I lost and what could have been haunts me. It has also created a stand-offish feeling towards the women in my life at no fault of their own. As the years have past I have accumulated women in my life who I know would be there for me if I needed to talk, but it is difficult when they are not your own. As a result, being a motherless daughter creates a sense of loneliness that can weigh you down at any given moment.
On these days, I feel weak trying to mask the pain in order to continue on with the tasks at hand. And on these days I feel like I am drowning. With loss their comes moments of life that get ripped away from you. Being a single 22 year old woman means that I lost the opportunity to try on wedding dresses as my mom watched, a grandmother for my children and a relationship I never truly had in the first place.
Four years later and I still spend drives home wiping away tears and hide in the bathroom late at night crying so I don’t disturb anyone. I also spend other days pushing through and staying busy which can be scarier than the mourning. I will still never accept the fact that as years pass the “motherless daughter” lifestyle because just a normal piece of my life.
Unfortunately, life goes on but so will her memory.
So here is to you mom, missing you daily and loving you always. To twenty-two years with you and four years surviving without you. We love you.