The First Mother's Day since...

So I warned you from the beginning that there might not be much logical sequence to my posts… and for this one, we’re taking a flying leap to the present. It’s Saturday, May 10, 2014, and tomorrow is Mother’s Day – the first since my mom died. The incessant advertisements saying “don’t forget your Mom” have been a constant reminder that she’s no longer here (in physical form, anyway). I’ve missed her terribly this week – I so want to see her smile, to chat with her about nothing in particular, to give her a big hug. Never again, not in this life.

And so I’ve confronted another level of the finality of her death this week. She’s not coming back, I’ll never hug her again… and that has brought up another layer of grief. So I’ve cried a good deal, I’ve been distracted, I’ve felt bereft and lonely and depressed. Fortunately, one of the lessons of the grief I’ve already processed has been to be gentle with myself, to allow the emotions to flow through and be released. It’s not been a comfortable experience, but it has been a healing one. I know more clearly that while she’s no longer here physically, she’ll be present in my heart forever.

It was Arbor Hospice here in Ann Arbor that cared for my mom in her last months, and they also provide bereavement services to family after the death. I’ve participated in two of their grief support groups, and one of the things I learned is that it’s crucial to anticipate holidays and have a plan for them. So I am prepared with a plan for tomorrow.

In the morning, I’ll go to Glacier Hills for brunch with my dad. And in the afternoon, I’m going to Gallup Park, where my mom loved to walk along the Huron River. Even with her impaired eyesight and her balance issues requiring a walker, she still loved being in nature. She could see shapes and movement, and was an avid people and animal watcher. She’d even agreed that it would be fun to rent a paddle boat with me “sometime,” although that never happened.

The last time she was there was the end of June last year. Two dear friends from Massachusetts were visiting to say their good-bys to her, and we took a picnic lunch to the park. It was one of those beastly hot days where the temperature and the humidity were over 90, so we ended up eating our lunch hastily and beating a fast retreat to the air conditioning at Glacier Hills. She still loved every moment of it.

So I’ll take some of her ashes to the park tomorrow afternoon and do a ritual honoring her for Mother’s Day. I'm building on a practice started by my sister and her partner (Beth and Susan), who have already left some of her ashes in Tuolumne Meadows in the high country of Yosemite National Park and in the desert of Tucson, AZ, both places she loved. Now she'll be floating in the ethers at Gallup Park as well. 

I don’t know exactly what the ritual will consist of just yet – except that I’ll buy a red rose because they were her favorite flower and incorporate it somehow. And I’ll tell her how much I love her and respect her and miss her. And how glad I am she was/is my mom.