Embracing My Emptiness

 HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL MY FB FAMILY AND FRIENDS! ENJOY YOUR SPECIAL DAY.

"...Know too, that my tears today are not tears of sadness, but tears of gratitude, appreciation, and everlasting love. I am thankful for those fourteen years with my mother..."

Taken from a 2014 post about my mom. Thought I would repost it in her memory. Happy Mother's Day Mom! 

March 17, 2014

shellyspotpourri.blogspot.com

“Embracing My Emptiness”

  

Martha R. Cothran , My Mother

Yes, you’re right. I haven’t been blogging lately!  What can I say? “I’ve been busy, I’ve been out of town, I’ve been working on another project, I’ve had out-of-town guests, or I’ve been in a blue funk.” Actually, they’re all true.  Nevertheless, I want to talk about that “blue funk” because it is something that plagues me. I can’t shake it. I can’t disguise it. It’s a cloak of melancholy which has shadowed me constantly through the years.  I use to think it would get better as time goes by, but it actually gets more complicated the older I get.  

Just this morning on Facebook, a friend posted a beautiful picture of her and her mother standing on the deck of a cruise liner looking over the beautiful ocean.  Her caption read, “Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace amid the storm.” It was so touching to me that I had to comment. That’s just what their faces depicted in the picture. My friend replied saying that a lifetime dream of her mother’s was going on a cruise and vacationing outside of the United States. What an experience to share with your mother! It’s a blessing!  

This article is to my sisters who have lost their mothers. From speaking and conversing with others who have lost their mothers, it doesn’t matter when, at what age, or why. The void is there! It is an unshakable, continuous grief. It becomes more persistent the older we get and with every watermark event in our lives; proms, high school graduation, college commencements, pregnancy, childbirth, post-delivery, motherhood, etc.   It goes on and on. God, I can name so many! Let’s not talk about birthdays and holidays. Holidays can be overwhelming if we let our grief take over, especially on Mother’s Day.

 I try to remember everything I can. What my mom did on different holidays, the clothes she wore, the color of her lipstick, the smell of her favorite perfume, favorite meals and desserts, going to church, Sunday afternoons, summertime, setting the table for dinner before Daddy came through the door with his boisterous, “What’s new?”  I wear a piece of her jewelry, and in my latter years, I have even written letters to my mother. I enjoy looking at pictures of my mother, the few I have because I don’t want to forget her smile. This helps me to in some strange way to stay connected to or continue a relationship with my mother that I so greatly miss.  

My mother passed very young at the age of forty-seven from multiple sclerosis. I was only fourteen just at the ripe age when our relationship was beginning to blossom.  There is not a day that goes by when I don’t think of my mother. I’ve been blessed to have other role models who have stepped into my life and became surrogate mothers for me; step- mother, aunts, cousins, mothers of my girlfriends, and even older friends. It just ain’t the same! This does not mean I am not appreciative and accepting of their advice and most of all love.

            “There is emptiness inside of me- a void that will never be filled. No one in your life will ever                love you as your mother does. There is no love as pure, unconditional and strong as a                mother's love. And I will never be loved that way again.”

                                     Hope Edelman, Motherless Daughters: The Legacy of Loss

 I’m embracing the emptiness yet again, today. I started writing this blog after Christmas 2013 because I found myself slipping deep into my grief probably, because I am in Atlanta, GA away from my family and friends. I cried too hard and could not get through it. But this morning, seeing Lisa and her mom standing on the deck of that ship really inspired me to write. Her caption, “Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace amid the storm.” This reiterated deep sentiments that I have had through all of my hardships in life. I have always felt that I would weather my storms better, “If only I had Mama to ask advice or just to hug and comfort me.”

For those of you who have your mothers still with you, know that you are blessed and cherish every moment you spend with them. Know too, that my tears today are not tears of sadness, but tears of gratitude, appreciation, and everlasting love. I am thankful for those fourteen years with my mother. I am thankful that she taught me how to clean, cook, and manage household chores. For I believe, she knew her time on earth was short because she would say, “Shelly, you need to learn to do this.” At that time, ironing five uniform blouses for me and five shirts for my younger brother was something that I did not want to know. Nevertheless, I found myself ironing a shirt for my grandson last night, and who do you think I was thinking of? I ironed it perfect with the crease across the back, just as if it had come from the laundry. I am thankful that my mom taught me not to give up when life’s occurrences get a little difficult. I’m thankful for the importance of family that she instilled in me. I’m thankful because she taught me to be self-reliant. She taught me to be polite and mannerable.  She taught me how to love and the importance of God in my life.

I have done some reading on the topic, “Motherless Daughters”, and today, I remember a statement from Arthur Kovacs, PhD, a psychologist in Santa Monica, Calif., who focuses on life transitions. Kovacs tells his grieving clients think of life’s journey “as starting out with a tiny house and adding rooms. When we are first born, we have a  one- room shack," he says. "Every life experience adds a room to the house. The death of a  parent adds a big room. What's important is to keep all the doors open to all of the rooms.  We will find ourselves visiting those rooms in our mind. Some rooms will have beautiful views. Some rooms you will need to go in, sit down, and cry occasionally."

                                                                Today, I’m in one of those rooms