Today marks 2 years since my mother’s death. My grief has settled in somewhere deep in my heart. For the last few days I’ve been remembering the events that led to her passing. September 10 was the beginning of her last weekend. September 11 was the last day we were able to converse. We didn’t say anything meaningful that I recall. I was more concerned about making sure I got the medications she needed into her. Swallowing had become difficult. We all knew the end was near, I just hadn’t realized how close.
My mourning is done in passing. Standing on a street corner or on my way to a meeting. It’s the conversation in the back of my head that no one gets to hear. I know at which hour on each day what I was doing two years ago. I had never been so exhausted and so present as I was then.
I still miss not being able to talk to her. I know she’d be pleased and proud to see how we’ve managed.