Mourning

"Nothing matters.  I do not want to be distracted from my grief. I wouldn't mind dying. I wouldn't mind it at all.  I wake from sleep in the middle of every night and say to myself, 'My mother is dead.'"

A little less than a year ago, my mother in law, Esty, passed away.  She was surrounded by family and in her own bed.  We have done a lot this year to honor her passing. But I feel incomplete.  Nothing can really help with the truth of loss of someone I love.  One of the things I miss the most is our honest relationship.  Truly honest relationships are rare in life, and she and I had that great treasure.

We acknowledged the complexities of our relationship with good humor.  Being a mother in law isn't easy, and neither is being a daughter in law.  We definitely had our hard times.  But we shared a fundamental belief that our role in our shared family was more important than any individual disagreement.  I wanted, and still want, our kids to be close to her. And to know her gifts.  In fact, as she was dying, I held her hand and told her everything I promised to share with my kids that she had taught to me.  Because, in truth, though I am good at honesty, I am not always good at laughing off the hard times and letting go of hurt.  Esty taught me that.  She had both a solidity and a lightness about her.  She was deeply committed to family, education, and a great life.  Maybe that was the root of our connection; we defined a great life similarly.  A long marriage, stable finances, great unending pursuit of education, and family - those are the hallmarks of a life well-lived.  She also loved my husband unconditionally.  Though we joked about her use of the word 'perfect', I know she believed that he is perfect in God's eyes.  And now when I look at him I remember that mother's love that he no longer has in his life.  And I feel a responsibility to that.  The last thing I told her was that Chris would always be the most important person in my life.  She squeezed my hand and said,'I know.'

I will never stop missing her. Without my weeks with her in the summer, I am not sure how I will remember to ask myself all the probing questions about life and my understanding of it.  I would like to think that I will be able to do some of the things she did so well.  I aspire to give my kids the same sense of certainty that they are the center of my life, and that they are loved and accepted as they are.  I will also borrow her catchphrase as they get older: Everyone is entitled to my opinion!  And, as she did, I hope I will have the wisdom to be gracious and stable even when a fight or family problem seems unsolvable. I also hope to be as generous as she was as a mother in law; she always ALWAYS made sure to tell me what a great mother I am.  She made me believe that she was happy and grateful that I was raising her beloved grandchildren.  What a gift.

There isn't anything I didn't say to her, there is no unresolved argument.  I believe we knew and saw one another honestly.  And I know for sure that she is getting ready for her next journey.  But I will miss her for the rest of my life.

Recently I hear a sermon on the radio.  The pastor was saying, "Don't live as if it is your last day, live as if it is the last day of everyone you love." Amen to that.  Look around and know that everyone you know and love will die.  There is no shame in that - it is part of human life.  Just make sure you honor that, and don't waste time being angry or holding a grudge.

Esty, I miss you, I love you, and I will make sure my kids remember all you left us with your lovely truthful existence.