Yesterday, as I was looking at my list of friends to send an “invite” to for my Facebook page, I stumbled upon Mom’s name again. It took me aback, as it does every time, and soon I was fully enveloped in sorrow. I know without any hesitation that Mama would have supported me and that her “like” button would have been the first one pushed. I found myself wanting to click on it, even knowing that there was no one on the other end to receive it. It is moments like these that are so difficult. It’s when there is a flash of a picture, or a flash of a name, or a flash of a moment and that ever so brief flash turns into hours of pain, tears, and loneliness.
I cannot precisely explain the feeling that washes over you, other than genuine shock. But much more of a confused, baffled shock than typically occurs when upsetting events present themselves. I think most often when I am stunned by something, it affects my brain. I tend to sit in wonder of the how and why of it all. Strangely enough, when the shock comes from a picture or lost moment of Mama, it affects my heart. It latches onto it and squeezes so hard I can barely breathe. I know of no other shocking situation that does that, only the death of a loved one.
There is no time for rational, only time to react to the agony of it all. What I have learned in these bits of heartache is that if you just take a moment to sit in it all and cry out the loneliness, anger, frustrations, and feelings of deep loss…..there is always a sense of relief and a glimmer of light in the end. It’s as if our loved ones that are watching us from above are guiding us through this and have opened that door at the end of a very long, dark hallway. There is something about that idea and belief that I genuinely “like.”