It seems unusual to say for most people, but to me, it has indeed felt like a year since the passing of my mother. So many things have changed since then. Nothing feels like it has been a rush but rather a slow and tedious process. I am still not satisfied with the result, and probably never will be, but the fact remains that with a year come and gone, I am able to live without the presence of my mother.
It isn’t to say I doubted if I could function like an adult without her, more on the emotional aspect. It was a struggle at first, not having anyone to ramble to freely or get advice when I needed it. Watching as others in the family struggle, and continue to, with her loss. Living in the same home that once housed thousands of memories good and bad.
Over time I felt myself becoming more detached from it all. A less positive feeling compared to moving on, but instead of dwelling, I continued to push forward. I changed the house to be more like my own, I took complete ownership of the dog and I sometimes leave my house more than usual. Things are moving forward, and while there is never time to simply stop and reflect, I don’t mind the pace.
Today, on her anniversary, we plan to spread her ashes as she requested. People tend to say that the event will bring closure, but for me, it will just be fulfilling another request from the past. I still miss my mother, and I still care very much for her. The problem is just finding the humanity in that which is no longer human.
Once a person dies, they leave everything behind. Their body, their mind, everything that makes them what they are. I could certainly have taken my mother’s body and got it to function again, but ultimately that wouldn’t change the fact that what made her who she was had long since left. It is that notion that brings me solace. I know that she is no longer here, not in any physical capacity, and that itself brings closure.
Looking back on the year, there are still things I wish I had differently. The way I handled the funeral, the way I spent my last moments with her, and of course, outwardly dealing with the feelings boiling inside me in the moment it happened. I cannot go back and change these outcomes, and with the choices made, I find myself less interested to change those actions more and more.
I feel that losing someone always changes a life. No matter how small a role they played in it, people’s mindset alter when they hear or witness the loss of a person close to them. It is how people handle that information that dictates if their passing carried meaning. With how others seemed to react with her loss, it is good to know that she was thought of fondly, and that she did make a difference in people’s lives.
With the year come and gone, with the changes life has brought, and the plans for the future, there is no longer time to dwell on the past. I will never forget the horrid event that transpired, nor will I lose the feeling of anger and hate I have for the very thing that ended her life. In the end, there is nothing I could have done, or can do, to change the outcome. It is that fact that I must accept, and use the feelings left from that very event to push myself to do the things that need to be done.