To Feel My Hand In Hers Again

I have written before about the days that are harder than others. There are probably several posts about that. Losing your mother changes your life as I'm sure those of you who are sadly in my shoes know. Life is just never the same. There are the mornings, days, nights, seconds, weeks, and months that are just harder to get through than others and most times, there's no real explanation for them.

Certain things remind you of her. You just need a "mom hug." You miss spending time with her. You just need her.

Monday was another one of those days for me. I think part of it had to do with the tragedy during the Boston Marathon. The idea of suddenly losing a love one hits me deeply and thinking about the realities that were taking place for families affected by the bombings hit me deeply. Death in general just hits me deeply because I know how awfully tragic and aching that pain feels. It never leaves your soul.

I called my dad in tears after watching footage of Boston on Monday. He had a hard time focusing at work and decided he just needed to leave and go home. And then he texted me this:

I so badly miss visiting my mom at the cemetery at least once a week. It was my time to reflect, to spend with her, to just sit there and be.

It is so hard for me to explain to people why I enjoyed going to the cemetery to visit her grave. It was the only time I had here on Earth to still spend with her, even if it was just a symbol. It helped... but it never took away the pain. And now not being on the same coast as her grave means I don't have a solid place I can go to visit her. I have her memories. I have her pictures. And I had one recent video of the two of us together. The last video taken of us. At my wedding.

Monday night, I don't know what came over me, but I needed to see the two of us interacting. I watched the first minute of my wedding highlights over and over again. Just me and my mom as I got ready. Seeing the way she looked at me. The love in her eyes. And then there was one moment that hit me so hard.

I reached out for my mom's hand and she placed my hand in hers and smiled. That one moment means the world to me yet breaks my heart at the same time because I know, deep down, that my mom will never be able to look at me like that again. I'll never be able to reach out and feel her hands in mine. And I don't care what positive spin anyone tries to give me... not being able to hold her hand while I'm alive again is the most painful feeling I've ever felt.

Still, to this day, it doesn't feel real that she is really gone. It becomes so ingrained in you to have your loved ones around or at least just one phone call away. But once they're really gone - forever - it is the most unreal, gut-wrenching feeling to know nothing at all will ever bring them back. Not even for a second.

That split second pictured above means more to me than I can express. To have a couple minutes of footage of us interacting. To see the love in her eyes as if it were happening today. I would do anything to bring her back. To feel my hand in hers again...