Trying to escape

I'm in beautiful San Diego.  I've been here with my dear friend Kim since Wednesday night.  Tracy flew in Thursday night - and I've been in the company and surrounded by two of my most favorite and real friends.  However, there has been another guest too...and that is my grief. 

This weekend was jammed packed with days/firsts for me.

May 9, 2014: The first of Mom and Leo's anniversary where they are both dead.
May 10, 2014: My 32nd birthday - my first birthday where my mom is dead.
May 11, 2014: The first mother's day - where I don't have my mom - because she is dead.  

I've had hard, long and exhausting cries.  The sort of cries that leave me exhausted for the rest of the day.  The types of cries that make me think I will never feel better.  The type of cries that make me feel stupid for thinking I would be able to escape my constant companion - even in San Diego.   

My new friend Jason sent me the most thoughtful and honest text message yesterday.  It said the following: "Tomorrow is gonna suck.  It always does.  Read this and thought about you.  Hope you have an okay day.  It will get better.  I promise."  This article is what accompanied the text message.  I immediately started reading "The Unmothered" on my phone and was in tears for the following hour. 

I cried because there ARE others out there who have lost their mom's to cancer at such a young age.  I gained validation for my feelings, sadness, grief, etc through this article.  I can relate to the author for turning to books and quotes to express how she feels.  I can relate to being fearful of time moving on - because that just means that it has been longer since I've last seen/talked/touched my mom. 

This following section - I related with:

• About two weeks after her death, I wrote in my diary: “The finality of it. When she was sick, at least things kept changing. She felt better, or worse. It was a good time to talk, or it wasn’t. Things happened. Now nothing is happening. This is it.”A year later, my diary reads: “Hardest thing: overhearing colleagues tell their mothers ‘Love you’ on the phone. So casually.” 
• From Proust, I took: “For henceforth you will always keep something broken about you.” From C. S. Lewis: “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing.” From Joan Didion: “A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty.” From O’Rourke: “Am I really she who has woken up again without a mother? Yes, I am.”
• Like a last rain, my mother left behind an earthy scent that lingered long after she was gone. Like a last rain, for a fleeting moment, everything she touched seemed to glow. 

However, I did survive - I have no idea how - but I did.  I miss her so fucking much - I can feel my heart aching.  

Happy Mother's Day to one of the greatest people in my life.  I miss and love you so much mom...

Your forever TT.