Occasionally It Has To Be Sad...(But Tomorrow is Another day)

It's a very melancholy day here at the beach. Usually when I sit on the balcony, I can see for miles over the ocean. But today, I can't even see the sand. Funny how it suits my state of mind. My mom died 4 months ago today. 7 months ago, she was here at the beach with me. Though she was fighting many different health issues, including a little dementia, I did not see it coming. We had a lovely time, and I will always be thankful that I had that last little bit of fun with her before the downhill spiral started.

When I logged onto my computer this morning, mom's name lit up in my address book. Just for old time's sake, I sent her an e-mail. Now that account has long since been cancelled, so I fully expect to get one of those "mailer-damon" messages later on in the day, but a little bit of suspended belief never hurts on a day like today. In fact, it seems to be kind of the norm.

A friend of mine e-mailed me telling me that as he drove into work this morning, a particular song he liked came on the radio. At the same moment, the title appeared on the radio screen and on his blackberry too. For privacy's sake, I won't mention the title, but suffice it so say that it was full of implied meaning. My friend wondered if it was "coincidence or message from above?" I told him which ever he prefers.

Another friend lost her mother last week. She said she felt like an "orphan." I had to go write this down because I could relate to it so much. It is a very odd feeling being without parents in the world. It feels as though something is always missing. I use to talk with my mom at least 4 or 5 days a week. Even near the end, when she often would not remember the conversation, it was still a comfort to me. Just the sound of her voice allowed me to keep my sense of the world in tact. My belief system allows me to think that I will see her again one day, but there are days when that just doesn't fill the void.

As I kind of bask in today's sense of quiet sadness, I am reminded of another friend who is dealing with the anniversary of the death of her son. The perspective this brings to my situation immediately re-focuses my grief and reminds me that at least mine falls within the circle of life. Death is suppose to follow some kind of order or sequence. This is how we can make sense of it. When the sequence isn't followed, it defies any explanation or justification. So I send her my love and my thoughts and my prayers. And the hope that none of us are dealt with more than we can handle. I'm not sure that "if it doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger." But I am sure that if it doesn't kill you, you at least get another day to live and love.

When I was a little girl, my mom would cook me oatmeal in the morning, tuck me in at night, and even check on me periodically during the night. During our last trip here together at the beach, the roles were reversed. It was as if we had come full circle. I would fix her oatmeal, make sure she was comfortable and happy, and peek in during the night to make sure she was sleeping well.
I guess what goes around truly does come around.

So tomorrow is another lovely day at the beach. The fog is already burning off, and I hope that my melancholy mood burns off too. Besides my family and friends, it is my sense of humor that seems to push me through the pitfalls of life. I will be searching for it as the day goes on.

Lately, every time I turn on the tv, the movie Forrest Gump is on. I like the movie, but it has never been a favorite. However, every time it comes on, I find myself watching for a few minutes and hearing something truly prophetic. Today, the line that comes to mind is at the end, after Jenny dies. Forrest is at her grave speaking to her and he says "If you need me, I'm never far away." So today, the same goes for you mom. If you need me, I'm never far away...

Until tomorrow, with the promise of happier tone...