Today marks 11 years since my mom passed away. It feels longer than that. It’s as if my time with her were a lifetime ago.
My mom was our family’s designated worrier, always concerned with my siblings and me. She was there with us through every crisis. She didn’t always have the answers we needed. However, she gave her time and listened. She would tell you when she disagreed with what we were doing.
That’s why I find a cruel irony in her passing. Life has been a series of disasters since that day in 2015.
Some of the fallout was from losing someone close (we talked every day). It impacts everyone around you in ways you don’t expect. The entire family went through a hellish period, and some wounds may never heal.
But most of what’s happened had nothing to do with her death. I’ve dealt with personal and professional struggles. There have been painful, traumatic events that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
Then there is the state of the world. It seems like all manner of stability have disappeared. I feel it particularly here in the USA, where each day brings chaos and more dire predictions.
I’m proud of myself for simply surviving it all, even if I haven’t handled everything as well as I’d have liked to. The journey has been difficult and hasn’t let up.
However, I’m still here. The bright side is that I turned out to be stronger than I imagined. Maybe going through hell is the only way to know for sure.
As for mom, her death brings a couple of thoughts to mind. First, it’s been 11 years since she suffered from illness. It was hard for her to do anything during the last years of her life. Her pain is gone.
The second is that she was spared 11 years’ worth of turmoil. I’m not a spiritual person in the least. But maybe the universe was trying to save her from what was to come. 🤔
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