Nine Months

Today marks 9 months since Dad left us...and I still miss him so much. The last couple of months were actually better than I thought they would be, and that was good...and then this week I had to rush down to Houston in the middle of the week because Mom had to have a minor outpatient procedure and no one (including my brother who lives with her) could take her to/from. I was so frustrated about having to run down there in the middle of the week (not to mention the last couple of times I've been in Houston I've ended up staying down there longer than anticipated due to random problems that arose) and that no one else who she is ALWAYS helping would help her.

I felt horrible about the fact that I was so irritated about having to drop everything during what is for me the busiest time of the year at work...and that no one would help her. And of course I felt irritated about the fact that I felt irritated, because, hello, she's my mother and has done more than I could ever even dare to imagine you know? I should be jumping at the chance to help her...and it's not that I didn't want to help her, it's that I didn't want to drop everything (again) and run down to Houston to deal with whatever was happening down there. But helping her? Of course I wanted to help her, she's my mom and I love her (do you see the ridiculousness that is my personality).

Aaaaaand then it hit me today...why I didn't want to go down there...why it's hard having to do these things for Mom...to accept that she's getting older...because today is 9 months that Dad has been gone...and the more medical issues Mom has (no matter how minor) that require me to leave here and go there force to me accept the fact that she is getting older and she also won't be around forever. Ummm...THIS IS A VERY HARD PILL TO SWALLOW FOR SOMEONE WHOSE DAD HASN'T EVEN BEEN GONE A YEAR. And it's not like I don't know it and don't see it, that Mom's getting older, it's that I don't want to accept it. There's a big difference between knowing something and actually accepting it. I know Mom won't be around forever, but it's not reality yet so I don't want to accept it...I don't want to even think about it and dealing with these issues forces me to think about it. I don't want to wake up one day without her and never be able to talk to her again because she's my mom...and I already miss Dad so much it still hurts ya know? (Well, hopefully you don't know.)

I guess it's also kind of hard because I have two friends who got pregnant right around the time Dad died...one of them had the baby on the 8 month anniversary of Dad's death, and the other one is coming soon...and so in the time my grief has existed, these two very dear wonderful friends have experienced one of the best things they possibly can...and that's great for them...and it's even better that their fathers are around to share in the existence of their grandchildren. My dad will never know my children, and my children will never know my dad and that sucks. But it hit me today that if you measured grief in, say, growth of a person, today my grief would be a baby. That might be weird and twisted, but I don't mean it to be and in my mind it makes perfect sense.

Anyway...today is just definitely one of those days...perhaps I should turn off Mercy Me's "I Can Only Imagine." Ha.

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PS...I haven't posted in awhile and I need to thank Ashlee of And They Lived Happily Ever After for the Bath & Body Works gift card she sent me for the Valentine's Day blog-swap I participated in. Thanks Ashlee! (Sorry there's no photo, my phone's camera isn't the best)