I Still Need Her

They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite.
Cassandra Clare

On a Thursday morning earlier this year, I woke wanting to speak to my mother. The urge was so overwhelming I ended up in tears. Because as much as I feel like I can talk to her in spirit it is not the same. It will never be the same.

She used to tell me that she had to prepare her ears for when I got home from school, because I would share my entire day from the moment she dropped me off to the moment I saw her again. To be honest, that sharing went on well into adulthood, it was our routine, our thing, pretty much until the end.

These last six years have been well-lived and well-loved by the three of us. And while we have all experienced great joy and deep sorrow and everything in between; we – my sister, brother and I are very much aware that each day adds another day to the last time we spoke to you, shared a laugh or quarreled about getting your glasses fixed.

I know you could not have gone through six more months of pain…far less six years. I accept that. I still wonder. And these days when I see my brother with his infant son, I wonder how you would have worn grandmother-hood.

I’ve said it before and to those who feel it, they know that grief does not always come in waves. Sometimes, it a tsunami that catches you off guard and you are swept up before you even realize that you are engulfed in emotions with nothing to hold on to.

This year was particularly hard. I just celebrated my birthday  and it’s a big, scary number. Scary because sometimes when the days are hard, all I want is my mother and I’m a grown ass woman.  This is the age you’re supposed to have it all together, or it least shouldn’t it all be coming together?

Yet here I am…trying to find a way to go back in time and crawl back into my mother’s uterus and stay there. Emotions have been bubbling to the surface because I’m realizing that it doesn’t matter how old I get, I still need my mother.

I still need her on days when work stress gets to be too much and I really just want to come home and see her sitting in her favourite spot, doing her puzzles with the one-handled glasses, she refused to get fixed.

I still need her when my heart is breaking and I feel like she is the only one who really understands what it is to know, understand and love me unconditionally.

I still need her on my birthday…to wish me a happy birthday dammit!  I still need her, because the older I get the more I realize that this shit does not get any easier but her love made it all the more bearable.

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Mother’s Day Weekend – May 2010             Fort Granby, Tobago

I still need her when all I want to do is behave like the child I feel like sometimes and I know she would understand. Because, of course mothers understand that no matter how old their child get, that child will always be their baby.

I still need you. I still miss you. Every. Single.Day.

 

6 Comments

  1. August 7, 2016 / 4:50 pm

    Those who feel, it know. I hope my solidarity comforts and validate all these emotions that have nowhere to settle.

    • Vernette
      August 7, 2016 / 4:53 pm

      Thank you Vikera. It does.

  2. Mariana
    August 7, 2016 / 7:45 pm

    I truly understand how you feel, because I have felt that very way; for my own mother as well as my dearest friend. On September 4th this year it will be twenty-six years since my mother went home to the Lord, and there are times when I want to run things by her and I can’t, neither can I do it with my friend, I recall too there were times when I will just pick up my friend and go driving when her children are wondering where she’s at. Those were fun times though. But I get it because the tables have turned for me, in that, i have to grow an extra ear to listen to my children tell me their stories, even now though they are big also….lol. But I don’t mind, I like it. I guess this is life. Live! Love! Laugh!

    • Vernette
      August 7, 2016 / 7:53 pm

      Lol…you made me laugh with “her children wondering where she’s at”! Good times. I was chatting with a friend about this post and at one point she said, “this is your story.” But you know what makes this journey bearable, is the fact that while my grief is mine this isn’t my story alone. Those who feel it knows it. And I’m happy that I can share this story with you Mariana.

  3. Jonathan
    September 29, 2016 / 1:29 pm

    Thank you for sharing so openly V
    Some things never get old and for as little time as my dad has been gone…. that vacuum certainly hasn’t aged any…
    God bless

    • Vernette
      September 29, 2016 / 7:41 pm

      Who feels it knows it Jonathan. May they both rest in peace. God Bless.

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