Girl in Pieces

Hey mom,

Sorry it’s been so long.

It’s been a tough, weird few weeks and I have struggled just to get through it, much less write about it. I never thought I would find myself so lost in this place. One that my broken heart just can’t escape. I keep having dreams that none of this happened. That you were still just you and nothing had changed. And then I wake up and realize that you really are gone. And I get up and I go through all the motions again. But just because I carry it well, doesn’t mean it’s not heavy. And I think that is what most people forget. If I don’t break down in front of them, then I must be doing ok. But I’m not.

I am not “OK.”

I have gotten so good at faking things, compartmentalizing so much sadness, that I think I even forget how much I hurt. That is until I hear a song or use one of your weird expressions and I just feel you all around me. Last week I actually said “put that in your pipe and smoke it.” You would have been so proud.

I forget how much I hurt until I see a photo - like the one that popped up today. A picture from exactly one year ago of you here, in Indiana, just killing time before we saw our girl Miranda. This picture, the one that you MADE me take, of you swimming in the pool at my old apartment. It’s like you knew I would need this photo 365 days later to remind me how beautiful and how FULL OF LIFE you were just a few months before you died. It’s so crazy to see this picture and be reminded of how different things were just a year ago.

I can pretend like I am OK until I have a bad day, until I throw up in the middle of the night for no reason, until I find a weird lump and freak out and reach for my phone to call you. Until I remember that I am 32 and I have no idea what I am doing with my life and that I need you here to tell me that this is normal… I feel OK until these moments, and then I realize I am anything but.

Moms are the people you run to when everything is falling apart. When something goes wrong or you feel like your world is crumbling around you. Mom’s love you unconditionally. They love you without fail and will do whatever they can to make you happy. No matter how old you are, no matter how serious or how stupid the situation, moms are always there…

Until they aren’t.

You left me before I had the chance to truly appreciate you. To soak up your wisdom and realize that you really did, in fact, know better than me. You left before I got to ask you so many questions… some stupid, and some that I will never forgive myself for not getting the answers too.

There are so many times I find myself needing you…

Like when life is hard and I need help and I want you here because you always knew me better than anyone. You always knew how to fix my problems… and in the rare instance that you didn’t – you would at least be strong enough to tell me to f**k it and move on. You always had the answers to questions like -

• I am 32 and I just don’t get it. Am I just supposed to sit at a desk for 12 hours a day and listen to podcasts and drink coffee and then drive home and drink wine until I die? What’s the point of all of this?

• But also… what comes next?

• How many dogs are too many dogs?

• What kind of grandma would you have been? But also…

• How could I ever even consider being a mom without you? And how old really is too old?

• Could I ever be as good of a mom as you were? Doubtful.

• All jokes aside, I just really need to know. Who did you like better… me or Charlie?

Or like when my heart keeps breaking– over and over again. It seems to just keep happening. Friends disappoint, exs buy new rings 19 months later, people you believed in fail you, and life moves on when you’re stuck standing still. That’s what life is – but you’re not here to help me through it. Help me through things like -

• The pain of losing Izzy and watching dad suffer through yet another painful goodbye.

• The pain I feel every single time one of your friends or a family member calls or texts to tell me how much they miss you – how they can’t believe that you’re really gone.

• The suffocating heartbreak in hearing that the person I called my best friend, proposed to a girl who is 8 years younger and not a damn thing like me… and then tells everyone that he has never been happier. Yeah, ouch.

• The pain of knowing that my life will move on despite it all – but you won’t be here to see any of it.

• The pain of feeling so alone in all of it.

Or like when I need help adulting. Because even though I am an adult – I need an aduliter adult, someone to tell me what to do. And you’re not here. I find myself picking up my phone to call you in a panic over the stupidest moments like -

• When I was sent a jury duty notice… to my old apartment. It arrived at my new house the day AFTER I was supposed to be in court. Are they going to arrest me? I don’t get it.

• Why the heck can I not boil an egg? They either don’t peel or they are green on the inside. You always knew how to make them.

• When I can’t figure out how to explain to dad that he doesn’t need every single cabinet and drawer open when he is cooking. I totally understand why you were always SO frustrated.

• Or why is it that every time I try to double boil chocolate chips to make grandma’s cookies the chocolate melts into a huge blob?

• Or that I wish I had that dang porcupine meatball recipe. You never did get it to me.

• And, why is it that every time I wear something white I spill my coffee? And how the hell do you get it out?

• Also, how many ibuprofen can I take before I die? These wine hangovers are a bitch.

• Speaking of wine… I know they say not to mix alcohol and Xanax but like, they have to say that right?

Or when I need faith advice.

• Like how can I have faith in something that goes against so many things I stand for and believe in?

• And did you ever really think you were going to beat this? I feel like you always knew, didn’t you…?

• Did you pray? What for?

• And were you scared to die?

• You promised you would always be with me – and I know you are here, but why can’t I feel you?

• Did you know we would all be this lost without you?

• How can I believe in a God who can do anything, but he didn’t save you?

Or when I just NEED my mom. I am a strong A.F. woman, until I am not. Sometimes I just need you. Brandon is so patient and so great. He is holding up to the promise he made to you. Seger gives the best snuggles and dad tries his best from 225 miles away…but sometimes, I just really need you.

• Like when I have a migraine so bad that I wish you were there to put a cold wash cloth on my forehead and rub my back.

• Or when I have cried all night and I need you to remind me that cold water, mascara, and a good lip gloss will hide even the worst of nights.

• Or when I can’t figure out why you left me.

• Or why you didn’t think to leave me a letter? Some kind of note telling me how to get through this - or to tell me how much you loved me.

• When I need you to tell me to stop crying. That you will always be my mom.

• Or when I just need to know that you miss me as much as I miss you.

Cause mom, I am a girl in pieces. I am a girl who just really misses her mom.

There are so many things I still need you for. Just promise you will stay with me, and I will do my best to be OK… OK?

Miss you more.