March used to be my Mama’s month. After all, her birthday is March 12, 1944. She would be 70 in just a few days. “Would be” are the operative words. That nasty shit, cancer took her 23 years ago when she was 46.
46…the age I am now.
Unbelievable. She only got to live this long. What kind of shitty deal is that? I’m 46 and I’m only just getting started. I was nearly 23 when she passed, so I have officially now have been without her as long as I was with her.
It doesn’t matter. How long it’s been, I mean. So much of her is in me. So much that sometimes, I feel like i can’t breathe. And get this, it’s been like this for 23 years. It shouldn’t be that way. It shouldn’t still be so fresh. But for some reason that I am completely unaware of, it hasn’t faded. It’s not that I am in constant mourning everyday as if it were the day she passed.
It’s not that.
It’s just that she is so “here”. And yet, she’s not. She is in me but I cannot feel her presence. You know how people always say, they can feel someone who has passed? That has never happened to me, not once. I sure wish it would. Just 5 minutes. That’s all I need. To clear a few things up and to say thanks for everything and to ask her to let go of me. And I would hug so hard and it’s a hug I could keep close forever. Just the hug. Nothing else. Seems reasonable to me.
So, if that would help me so much, why can it not happen? If it truly does happen to others, then why not me too? I can’t figure it out. In any case, I called this piece, “Mom’s March” because it always has been. But this year, 2014 is the last year it is Mom’s March. Going forward, it will be “MY March”. No more reflecting. Well, except for those times when It happens out of my control. But I think it’s important to make it MY March. It’s also going to be MY Christmas. It’s going to be MY June 30th.
I’m 46 years old. I still have so much to do. It’s high time I got on it.
Talk to you soon! xoxo