I'm not a fan of numbers, but I had a thought tonight... "How many days has it been since mom's been gone?" In my mind, it hasn't been that long, but when I heard 548 days my heart dropped. Thats a big number. And when I put that number into a time line, I think of all the things I've acomblished and how my life has changed without my mom being here. You see, I'm not a fan of numbers... but she was. She loved numbers and found them fascinating. To her numbers told a story, presented facts, and held meaning. Things I never understood or appreciated until now. Don't jump to conclusions though! I'm not about to jump into a bunch of math classes and learning about statistics. The numbers I'm talking about have to do with remembering the number of days past, number of memories made, and number of flashbacks I've had in these past 548 days. Those kind of numbers.
Over the past several months, especially these past two weeks, I have been more emotional and upset than I have been in a long time. Don't get me wrong, grief comes and goes in waves, but I've purposefully pushed away my grief... until now. Now my grief is bursting at the seams and its presenting its self in a lot of very unexpected ways. Flashbacks and Memories. Just last week, after getting back from a long trip with my family, the first few days back where surprisingly rough. There were so many things I saw, heard, touched, that brought on overwhelming tears. Tears I couldn't hide or hold back. One of those triggers was brought on by driving past the chapel my sister got married at. It was completely unintentional. I had no idea I would be driving past that chapel, and on my way to a golf lesson no less! I sat in the parking lot crying, completely losing my mind over something that I hadn't given a thought about in years. But that wedding chapel brought up thoughts such as, "my mother will never walk me down the isle, give me away, meet my future husband." So many feels, so many worries, so much of everything. All brought up by one thing.
I remember having this worry, that I'd be that one girl that never gets married. Crazy I know, but I genuinly feared that... sometimes I still do. And within that worry, my mother always told me "You will get married. I know it." and my response was always "How do you know that?", she gave me this look... this look only moms give, like they know something you don't... confidently know, with certainty. Then she would say "Because I know you. I know your heart. And your heart is worth pursuing. Worth marrying." I cry remembering those words now, but back then I'd roll my eyes and walk away. Silly right? The things we take forgranted, and the things we don't remember that were said until years later... when you need them most.
Grief is hard. But within grief is the beauty of memories and flashbacks. I believe with my whole heart that these little moments of remembrance are gifts, gifts from God. Him showing me the love, strength, and confidence my mom held in me. I see pieces of my mom in me more and more each day. And regardless of these past 548 that shes been gone, I've been given more reasons to love her and learn to be proud of myself... to be confident in myself and who I am. Just like how she held confidence in me.
There is strength to be found by allowing yourself to grieve & be vulnerable.
Memories are gifts. Write them down as they come.
Love is shown in many ways & found in many places.