And When I Can t Feel With My Son Hands I Promise Not to Lose Her Again
Written and shared with us by our grief-friend, Cara Jeanne. Sharing with all of yous, because we have a feeling many of you will relate.
"She'll always be with you lot."
"You'll know she's there."
"She'll never actually leave."
These are the very kind and infuriating things people have said to me over and over once more since my mom died in 2012. I needed to believe that this would exist true. That as she was dying in hospice, it would all be ok because I would always feel her presence; I would obviously receive messages from her. Come across, because if at that place was any mother-daughter combo who would certainly keep in impact once the veil had come between us, it would exist my mom and me.
We were extraordinarily close. She was absolutely my best friend. We talked every day and we saw each other several times every week, scheduled and spontaneous time together. She was cheerful, hysterical, compassionate, easy-going, generous, and spiritual. Obviously, we would proceed in touch on just like everyone said nosotros would.
My mom was all those things. Plainly, though, she was non a Jedi. And then imagine my surprise when my mom's torso finally took its last breath and she did not immediately become ane with the Force all around me.
I didn't feel whatever pang of telepathic hurting when she finally let get. I had spent every nighttime in the hospice middle with her for a week straight, and of grade, the one night I went domicile to sleep in my bed instead of her chair, she died. I learned virtually it through a voicemail from my dad. I hadn't fifty-fifty woken upwards when the phone rang. Perchance our spiritual connectedness was just experiencing a delay?
Then, who knows what happened those next few days. In that location was a memorial service. There was a slide show. In that location was a lunch. There were people. And then many of those people told me not to worry because I would always feel her with me.
But I didn't.
So I went to a psychic medium. Three times. Mom came through. Told me to await for yellow flowers and white moths. Told me to quit drinking nutrition soda. Told me that she was always with me in my thoughts and I needed to stop looking so hard for signs.
I went to dissimilar spiritual places, all different denominations. Mayhap if I prayed for her, if I meditated on it, I'd feel her.
I put faith in talismans. I started wearing her wedding ring on a chain around my neck. I got ii tattoos to get closer to her. I expert playing her piano. Maybe if I had these pieces of her with me all the time, I'd experience her.
I saw xanthous flowers everywhere. I saw white moths everywhere. I stopped drinking diet soda. I addressed the thoughts in my caput to my mom. I prayed and meditated. I wore her ring. I ran my fingers over the outline of my grief tattoos. I played her favorite songs.
But I just couldn't experience her. What I felt was defective. I certainly couldn't admit to people that my mom had not "reached out" to me. Was our relationship not every bit close every bit I had idea? Was she ok? Was she trying to reach out to me and I couldn't hear her? I kept information technology to myself and just doubled-downward on my efforts. I got a third tattoo speedily followed by a fourth one — a large tattoo with ii yellow flowers and a white moth.
While I love my grief tattoos and the story they tell, a story of a girl who badly wants to be as close to her mother equally possible, I still don't feel my mom.
As the years take passed by, I feel less shame near this. I'1000 not the but i, it turns out, who hasn't been able to "feel" their loved one. Information technology turns out, none of us is a Jedi. I miss her. I miss her in a fashion that I didn't know was possible. I feel so far from her. And that's when I feel her.
I feel her in the way I can't feel her at all. It is my sadness, the bittersweet joy of knowing that I one time had the perfect mom for me, it is my longing that lets me feel her.
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Source: https://whatsyourgrief.com/dont-feel-loved-ones-presence/
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