Somehow I’ve made it seven months without my momma. I have gratitude for my faith, my family, and my friends. And, the miracle is and was my momma.
I wrote a poem today. I don’t write poems often, but it feels right today.
“How I Miss Her So” by Jessica Adam
Seven months ago today
I spent the day with my momma
Twelve whole hours with her
Time since then
has been like a magician’s hat,
some days disappearing monumentally fast,
some days so still they
The shock of loss is still intense,
appropriate, I suppose.
I had her for 50 years.
I miss her texts with pictures of her pets,
her asking for pictures of my son,
and her whistle.
She was always whistling.
Can’t believe it’s been seven months
since I held her hand
and kissed her cheek.
My, how I miss her so…
I know I’ve told you a million and one times that parent loss is extremely hard. It shakes the leaves and rattles the roots. The amount of tears that have fallen feel like infinity plus ten, plus a hundred, plus a thousand.
Though not endless.
Yesterday I didn’t cry. Today I am.
I wonder how this will feel seven months from now and seven months after that. The same, I suppose.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of how quickly she was gone. Or how sick she got so fast. I’m guessing that will never ever ever make sense.
But, my hope is, that by writing this, when I reread it a year or five from now, that I will SEE the strength I had.
Strength is so fleeting in this. Some days it feels nonexistent. Others days, I feel solid enough to listen to other people talk about their losses.
It has truly been a ‘raw, emotional, learning, hard, heartbreaking, sad, love filled, people-have-shown-up-for-me, I can’t believe I’m doing this’ kind of seven months.
If you are going through a loss of your own, as always, my heart goes out to you.
Thanks for being here.
P.S. I just went outside to take these pictures and saw three deer in our freshly cut back field. Miracles.
©️ COPYRIGHT 2022 Unmeasured Journeys
** photographs taken by me