Am I Still A Mother?

Am I Still A Mother?

I am trying so very hard to show my emotions through these blogs, but am having a hard time coming up with words to describe my day to day emotions.  I guess it is because one moment I will be having a good day and the next moment will have me feeling like I just heard the news of Jeff’s death.  These up and down emotions are just that…uncontrollable, and akin to a roller coaster.  But for the most part I feel I am in a better place emotionally, at least for the most part.  There of course are still many days where I am feeling very isolated and heartbroken, but I now know these feelings of complete loneliness will pass.  I cry daily or nearly daily…not all day long as I once did, but the tears still come.  I have gotten to a point where I can usually push them back if I am at work.  When I am home I just let them flow.  I allow myself to cry as long as I need to.  My nights are very long and lonely…I think nights are worse for me.  During the day I can force myself to be busy…if I can get out of my corner anyway.  But at night…I just lay there and…believe it or not…I still wait for my phone to ring.  I still sleep with my phone on my bed.  I still pick it up to make sure it is charged…and I still check the caller ID to make sure I did not miss any calls from Jeff.  I know it sounds crazy…but crazy is what it is.  Perhaps this is the new me…perhaps this entire ordeal has completely driven me insane. 

Mother’s day came and left…and I survived again for the second Mother’s day without my son in my life.  Jeff would call me very early on Mother’s day…he called early so he could always beat Tina ‘to the punch.’  For the second year in a row there was no call from Jeff…and I am still alive.  Who would have ever thought a mother could survive that kind of heartache?  That heartache…to remain here above ground after burying her only child.  My doubts of whether or not I am still a mother have lingered all these months.  The day before Mother's day I found myself at the cemetery planting flowers for my men...my husband and my son.  As I dug into the dirt I also dug into the countless letters I had written Jeff throughout these past 14 months.  The bottom of  the stack had already started turning to what would eventually be a part of the ground itself.  All stuck together, weathered, beaten down, and falling apart...same as I.  This past year has given me many many trails of tribulation....some I was able to manage...some of which I just fell apart...and others I simply choose to ignore.  I have had many months, many weeks, many hours to sit and think about a question which has been popping into my mind time and again, and I believe I finally have an answer to my own question…

Am I still a mother?

To deny I am no longer a mother also denies I never had a child.  To deny I am not a mother is impossible because I have far too many memories of my life with my Jeff.  Memories from the time before he was even conceived to now.  I think Steve and I were already in love with Jeff way before he was even conceived.  Somehow we both knew he would be the center of all our lives…and he was.  Although I no longer have a living son I have all those beautiful memories of his life…of his smiles…of his conversations…of his achievements.  I have all those many memories of his childhood, of his adolescence, and of his adult years with his family.  I have trunks filled with his memorabilia...many of his mementos…far too many pictures to count…and although I can no longer hear his beautiful voice, I can rewind my memory and hear his voice in my head.  I don’t have to say I miss my son…because truth is…I am still alive 14 months after his death...and still I can find no words to fully describe my desolation.  

No, I am no longer a Mother to a blood-related child here on earth…but I have many memories of a life that once was.  I have many memories of my own life which was filled with a baby boy…a baby boy who grew into a handsome man.  A man who sincerely adored both of his parents and a man with genuine love for his family.  I don’t know if I will ever feel that kind of love again…that adoration that I always felt from Jeff…that true unending kind of love passed on from mother to child and back again.  I have many people here who genuinely love me…but is it enough?  Is it the same as Jeff’s love…which was…unconditional, unabashed, unyielding, and everlasting.  I guess time will tell…whether or not it will be enough…time will tell.

I can say my fears of changing…the person I am, or rather, once was...is becoming more of a reality as time goes by.  There is no stopping this chain of events…through no fault of my own...I am becoming another person...one unlike my old self.  One who no longer gives a damn…one who just does not care…and truth is, I don’t care that I no longer care about the things in life I was once compassionate about.  Isn’t that something?  I just don’t care.  It is almost laughable.  I sit here as I write and I am smiling because I truly do not give a damn!  I have found that life itself is too damn valuable, and too damn short to 'give a damn' about the other guy!   

  

A few months back I stopped my volunteer work at the ‘River of Life’ men’s homeless shelter.  I volunteered there for a very long time.  Now it just doesn’t matter.  I no longer pay attention to the homeless people on the streets.  Actually homeless or not…I just no longer pay attention to people in general.  Who really gives a shit if someone is hungry or needs a place to lay their heads.  I find I no longer say, “Good morning,” just to make someone feel happy.  I no longer seek out elderly people at stores or restaurants, just to give them a hug and tell them they are beautiful.  It just doesn’t matter.  I have learned that God doesn’t pay attention to those of us who have tried to go out of their way to do good for others.  Instead of rewarding us with something positive he takes from us…he has taken from me…the best part of who I am.  So now what is left?  I am one and alone.  Just another person on this sad planet…alone.   I am no longer angry at God…I just choose to leave him be…the same way he turned his back on me, I have turned my back on him.  I guess I have come to some sort of impasse in this damn life of mine. 

  

I guess this is what life is all about…a person is born to infect those around him with love, laughter, memories…and then they are pulled from our lives.  Just like that.  And those of us who were infected by that person’s love are left here to wonder…’what the hell happened?’  And why?  And especially why take this person…and not the other guy?  Who is it that is pulling the strings of life?  Who decides who lives and who dies?  Is it God?  I mean…after all…according to his own word…according to his scriptures, he giveth and he taketh.  Isn’t this what we have all been brought up to believe?  That he, the almighty, is the foundation of all life and all life forms.  Well this time he has taken from me for the last time…he has taken all that mattered…he has taken my life.  So what the hell…he just might as well take me too…because there is definitely no meaning left for me here on this damn Earth.   I feel like I am just using up air someone else can use.   I feel I have no purpose here.   Maybe one day I will find my true purpose.

   

Hell, who knows…perhaps my new purpose is to sit here and write my inner most emotions about this catastrophic event in my life.  Do you really think there is anyone out there who is really eager to read this damn story of mine?  Story???  The problem is this isn't a story...LIFE…this is my life!  My new life or at the very least another new phase of this f'n life of mine. Crap…entering this new chapter of 'my new life' is nothing but crap!  It is like looking forward to going to the dentist to get a root canal!  All I know for sure is I am afraid...afraid to live the entire rest of my life without my son in my life.  I think this is normal...I think I am not alone in feeling this way...I believe any parent who has lost their spouse and then their child would probably feel this way.  Afraid, I mean.  They would be afraid of the unknown years ahead.  They would be afraid of living the remainder of their lives not knowing what the future holds for them.  So for now my life sucks!  We all know, at least for the most part, this is probably not true...but there are moments when I really do believe my best days are over. 

In losing Jeff I have most definitely changed.  I just do not care about life itself anymore.  I am no longer energetic…as much as I try I still cannot get in more than 12 miles a week walking.  As much as I try I still cannot get excited to do the things in life I once enjoyed.  I guess time will tell who the new Olgie will become.  How many more years will I find myself planting flowers in the 'Garden of Stone' in which Jeff lays.  How many more years will pass before I find myself laying beside him...perhaps God has won after all…maybe this is the Olgie he has wanted me to become all along…just a shell...nothing more, nothing less...than a shell of a woman.