Sometimes I often wonder if I would be in the situation I am in now, if Mom were still alive. Would I be jobless? Would I have roommates? Would I still be looking to move to California? There are just so many questions that I can never and will never know the answer to. I know that by thinking about them and wondering, I'll drive myself crazy. I know she would want me to think before I do anything. I know that she would support me, even if she didn't agree or understand my decisions. I could always count on her for her unconditional support. That is just one of the many many things I miss. People says it gets easier with time--I'm certain that this is true. It is almost a year since she has passed, and it still feels fresh every now and again. I used to smell her every now and again at Aristacare. I never smelled her at home. The scent has even dissipated from the last outfit she wore into the hospital... Out of her purse. Both are in a plastic bag, sealed up tight. I guess I just wanted her scent to last forever. I guess that's a little creepy? Sure, she smelled of smoke, but in a way, it was a sweet smoke? She didn't smell like other smokers. She had a smell all her own. The Hanna Smell. 

     Augh, and I needn't even mention her laugh. It was distinct, all her own. Everything about her, I miss... I just wish she was here, that's all. I know all of this would be so much easier to deal with if I had her to confide in. Sure, I have friends and the other family members. It would never be the same. For instance, Mom always encouraged me (even got mad at me) because my relationship with Dad isn't as good as it should be. She said she always wanted me to have a relationship with him, and it upset her that I didn't try harder or make more of an effort. Yet, everyone who I confide in now...? Says I should just be done with that entire county and everyone in it. Meaning, that side of the family. I don't know if I can officially wash my hands of him. My heart aches because he is the only parent I have left, and I barely know him. I know he and his wife would say that's no ones fault but my own. Maybe they're right. But doesn't it work both ways? I love him with all my heart, because he is my dad. I don't know. I really don't. 



Dessiree said...

Not to sound like a downer or something of the sort, but I don't like that whole "it gets easier with time" saying, because I don't believe it's true one bit. It gets easier to ignore and push away, but when the emotions come rolling in there just as strong and painful as they were the moment it happened. In fact, I think they're a little more extreme because I think about all the time that's passed and all the moments and memories that were missed.

Just last night, I was listening to a singer my dad used to listen to (and sing) all the time when I was little. I would close my eyes and swear I heard him singing. After over 5 years of him being gone, it hasn't gotten any easier. I still think about him all the time, and lately it's been almost daily. I've learned to deal with it, and choke down the tears. I still get the rumble in my chest and the welp in my throat, but sometimes, not all the time, I can keep the tears inside.

It doesn't get easier. We just learn to deal and when to cry and when to bottle it up for another day.

Sorry for the total emo comment, love.

Making Lemonade said...

No need to be sorry. I fully agree with you that time doesn't heal all wounds, nor does it get easier. Her 1 year is slowly creeping up and sometimes it still feels like yesterday.

What I am afraid of most, is that I will forget the small things. I don't want to forget anything at all...

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