It was my new normal routine, getting up after a decent sleep, making a delicious cup of chai tea and slowly waking to greet the day.
No rush to go anywhere, I didn’t have to see anyone, nor did I have to commute any more. I knew I had several tasks to accomplish, a few online items to mark complete and I wanted to get more content put on my website.
I remembered a note I needed to send to the attorney handling my granddaughters’ adoption. I looked her up in my contacts and sent it. Afterwards I seen a contact that was outdated so before I knew it I was scrolling through my contact list deleting outdated contact information. One of those little things you always mean to do but just don’t ever find the time to or you forget about it among all the other tedious items that need your attention.
All the sudden there it was, “Mom’s cell,” my eyes locked on it, my mouth quivered, and tears started flowing. I couldn’t delete that contact. It was four months ago this week that I lost her. I miss her every day. I want to call her. Hear her voice. I want to visit her and take her out to eat like we always used to do. I want to again bend my knees so that I am at her height level and give her the softest, gentlest hug, just the way she liked them. I want her back.
Oh, I know it’s better now that she is free from this life because she was in so much pain. I understand that she was ready to move on. It does not change the fact that as her baby girl I was not ready to lose her. I knew for years that she was having so many health issues. We expected to lose her much earlier than we did. I still want her back.
No. I wouldn’t delete that contact. Maybe never. That’s okay. I had only deleted my dads’ cell number because my oldest brother had taken it over.
I brought it up later in a conversation with my daughter. She admitted that she still has her dads phone number in her contacts even though he’s been gone for over 10 years. She stated “nope, I just leave it there.” We just looked at each other with that knowing sense of loss and empathy.
Keeping them close
Grief and the way it plays out in our life can be a very odd thing. We know the person has passed on but keeping their belongings, their info and other possessions is one of many ways we remember them and keep their spirit present in our hearts and minds.
My mother had given me a nightgown she bought so that I could hem it up. It is in my drawer tucked away. I was almost finished with it when she passed. I doubt it will ever go anywhere. Her card table is now where I rest my laptop as I write this. I look around and see many things she gave me plus what I was given after she passed.
Her houseplants sit in my bedroom reminding me of her everyday and each week as I water them. Not that I need reminding. They help me remember this life is full of change. They tell me I am breathing and alive. They help with the healing.
One day I will see her again on the other side or perhaps we will be with each other in another lifetime again. Only the Great Spirit knows.
All the best,