What I wrote to my brothers:
I dreamed a lot last night. But one of the last thing was that I was home for Onkâ€™s wedding.
Who am I kidding. Laugh away!
Thatâ€™s the gist of the dream because it was all quite a bit mumbo jumbo. Something including the fact that dadâ€™s was the only working shower in the house, that Ake still lives in his room and I am in mine, that we have a hot tub in the backyard (where I ended up having to take a bath in because daddy was STILL in the shower).
And that I was setting two seats for the parents, poignantly missing mom.
I didnâ€™t wake up crying, but I did cry promptly after I woke up.
I miss her something fierce today.
I guess I have been missing her for a bit since Motherâ€™s Day a few days ago. Just didnâ€™t have time to process it all. I have been so busy with everything and at some point I was trying not to feel it, occupying my time and my thought with something else.
You can only fight it for so long.
I have cried today. The hollow feeling in my chest is there. And it is just weird how your â€œheartacheâ€ could physically manifest.
Since I mentioned Mother’s Day, the hole in my chest has just been sitting there. That day, the office had that event at the Sony lot so I was preoccupied with a lot of things. Partly, I didn’t want to have time to dwell on the fact that I was missing my mother.
I kept pushing that through the week, busying myself with work and with Celeste’s going away. Losing one of my good friends at the office, although just across the street, is hard too. The dynamic of our little fun corner is already a little off, and now the glue is gone. It’s going to be interesting adjusting next week.
Friday night, I swore I didn’t want to do anything else. I left work on the early bus, feeling completely spent. I didn’t want to ride a bike to get dinner, but I made myself ask Brandon if we could. I didn’t want to sit and watch TV for the rest of the evening, but I couldn’t get myself to do anything else. All the while, I didn’t want to admit that my heart was aching and that there was a gaping hole in there.
Saturday came, as if he knew something was wrong, Brandon plotted out the day full of activities and I, not wanting to acknowledge my feelings, went with it. We got my bike fixed (the back fender was loose when I took a spill last week), bought a new door handle for my car (plastic is so old and brittle it broke off in Brandon’s hand), got pampered (Brandon got a 30-minute massage next door because the kink in his neck wouldn’t go away while I got a pedicure and extra long foot massage), and picked up groceries (made this awesome Spanish garlic chicken thing–will blog on Hmm…Food…Good soon).
But this morning, I wasn’t so lucky. The dream pretty much topped off the “I miss my mom” tank and spilled over.
I cried. Brandon held me for a while. Then he brought all of the stuffed animals in the room over to hang out with me, a “group hug” from my soft and fuzzy friends, not unlike how I used to do when I was a kid. I made me cry more but at the same time very comforting.
Mom’s first anniversary is already a few days away. And I am already a mess.