Friday, October 2, 2015

The Bittersweet Homecoming

I haven't had the motivation to write in a long time.  Sure, I've had ideas pop into my head.  I've even given thought to a post or two, but nothing has inspired me to write.  Until today.  Because today my mom moves home.


And you're right.  To have my mother right where I can reach her is a blessing 7 years in the making.  To not have to wait months on end, put a countdown planner on my phone, count my sleeps, or wait for a windfall to afford a trip to go see her is something that I can't put a price on.  To be able to hug her, laugh with her, have dinner with her, see her facial expressions when we have a conversation is something I never knew I would miss until she was 2,000 miles away.

But all this joy comes with a great price.  All this magnificent, overwhelming, heart bursting happiness also comes with an extreme sadness.  Because her reasons for coming back are because someone we love isn't where she was to be with her anymore.  The place she called home for seven years doesn't feel like her home without him anymore, so she is coming back to the only place that ever did without him.  And the thought of sharing all this joy without him is sad.

We would be remiss to let this day, and this happiness, go by without letting him know that we are thinking of him.  That there hasn't been a day in the last three months that we don't think about him, laugh with him, cry over him, share our anger because of him, or miss him with every fiber of our being.  There hasn't been a moment that so many lives haven't been affected by his absence.

Pieces of him never left.  Pieces of him will never return.  And with the return of my mother a new journey in her life will begin and we will all take it with her.  We will hold her hand, hug her shoulders, cry her tears, walk her footsteps, make new memories, share old stories -  but we can never take away her pain.  We can never replace him no matter how many miles distance you put between her and the place they made a home.

My mom comes home today.  Whatever "home" is or will be.  I am happy and sad and angry and feeling all the same emotions I felt the day he died, so I can only imagine that as she packs up her things and turns around one last time to say goodbye to the home they shared, closes the door and walks out, she is feeling so much more, and I only wish I were there to help her say those goodbyes.

I sit here pissed off that he is making me cry at work.  That he keeps popping into my head at the most inopportune moments.  Like when driving in my car and a song comes on the radio that reminds me of him.  Or when I randomly flip through Facebook and see his granddaughter, who is his spitting image and will never get to know him.  Or when I talk to my mom and I can hear the pain and the exhaustion in her voice.  I am angry that this is one thing in my family I cannot step in to fix.  I can be strong for myself and my family when it comes to my illness, but I can only be so strong for her and what she is feeling and it makes me hate him sometimes.

And I hate that I hate him sometimes, because I love him so much.  And sometimes....I hate that I love him so much.  Because if I didn't love him so much, I wouldn't have to feel all of these emotions.  And if I didn't feel all of these emotions, I wouldn't spend so much time thinking about how everyone else must be feeling at the same time.

Have I mentioned my mom is coming home today?  Because she is.  And I think we are all ready to put the worst of this pain behind us and move forward into the healing part that everyone keeps talking about.  The part where "they" say it "gets easier".  I hope "they" are right.  Because if they aren't I will hunt them down and cut a bitch.  For real.

Hurry home mom.  Your family is waiting with open arms.  It's been a long time coming.