Pretending Is Exhausting

Life keeps going all around me, and somehow I am supposed to participate.  I'm just going through the motions.  At times I feel like I'm in a fog, and then there are times I can't stop crying ... and sometimes the crying turns into wailing.  Most people I'm around I feel like I have to pretend I'm okay, and really I'm not.  It's not like that with everyone, but most people just don't know what to do or say.  Pretending I'm okay seems to make it easier on them.

Pretending is so exhausting.

I told someone last night it had been a hard week, and her response hurt my feelings and ticked me off.  It's was like she thought I should be over it by now.  It was all I could do to hold my tongue.  I don't know if she meant what she said they way I heard it.  Most likely not, but it was evident she didn't want to discuss my mom.

My mom is constantly on my mind, and I find myself constantly wanting to talk about her.  I want to remember her.

And sometimes I just need to talk about her death.  It's so hard to process.

So I had to sit there and pretend I was okay, and all I could think of was the last jewelry party mom had.  We had so much fun that day.  She bought me a strand of pink pearls and the bracelet to match for my birthday ... our birthday.  I was born on my mom's 21st birthday.

That's another day that will never be the same.

I know I have to keep doing the things that need to be done.  My laundry is piled to the ceiling.  I still haven't done anything with all the stuff that was sent to the funeral home.  Just yesterday I had my aunt Bobbie take me to buy thank you notes.  I have a ton of those to write, but I just can't bring myself to get started.  I did write the "thank you" to go in the newspaper.  My dad wanted to get it done as soon as possible.  He brought me part of one he had scribbled down last week and told me to write it however I wanted to.  I just took what he had written and added a few things.  He's having it run for two days.  "A Friday and Sunday", he said.  He wanted as many people to see it as possible.  I opened up the paper last night and on page 3 it jumped out of me.  It was so hard to look at.  Somehow it seems like the final step.  We've had her funeral, the headstone has been bought, we've begun the long process of settling her estate and now it's time for thank you notes to be written.  It's like ending one chapter and having to begin the next.

The chapter that begins life without my mama.

Hannah's birthday is this coming week.  I had forgotten to even plan her party, so I've been scrambling trying to get details in order.  My aunt also took me to buy the invitations and decorations for that.  Hannah told me she didn't even want a party, but my mom would want her to have one.  She would always asked me why I had such big parties for my girls, and I'd tell her it was because I wanted them to know how much I celebrate their life.

I wish I had celebrated her life more.

I had breakfast with one of my brothers yesterday.  We had to go to the attorney's office to sign some papers, so he came by and picked me up.  We went to eat afterwards.  It was really good to just sit and talk to him.  I don't have to pretend with him.  He gets it.

It gets harder every day.  Every time I fall asleep I wake up thinking it was just all a bad dream, and then I have to face the realization all over again she's gone.

It's still so hard to believe.

I noticed yesterday when I was talking to my brother we kept referring to her in the present tense. 

I didn't know your heart could hurt this much.  The pain makes it so hard to breathe at times.

I got an email from my aunt Kathy a couple of days ago.  She reminded me that even Jesus died, and now He lives and again ... and I can be certain my mom lives.

There is much comfort in knowing she's with Jesus.

The Lord continues to be faithful.  He's constantly reminding me He's not going to leave me.  He's going to carry me through this.  There is no way I could bear this pain without Him.

I never have to pretend with Him.  I don't have to hold my tongue, and He doesn't mind how loud I wail.

He understands more than anyone.  After all, His Son was the One who died so my mama could live with Him for eternity.