There is one thing you know instantly about a Motherless Daughter when you meet her - that she is still standing.
Even if she feels like she is one day away from giving up, every step she takes forward is a sign that for today, for this moment, she is still standing. She is still surviving. She is still making it. And she is still trying to keep going despite this most devastating of losses.
That is the strength you have Motherless Daughter. Whether you are two days into your loss or twenty-five years. You may think you won't make it, but when you meet others like you, you cannot deny that you too have a chance to survive. And not just survive, but after awhile live and thrive and smile and be happy again.
I think the key is to make sure you connect. Connect (in a healthy manner) to a person or a pet or even a cause. Connect to something that can remind you everyday (even if it's just opening up the curtain to feel the sun) that you do indeed have a shot at life, even after your Mother's death.
When my Mother died, I died with her that's for certain. The product of a divorced family at the age of two, I grew up predominantly in the presence of my Mother. It was the two of us for the long haul. And I felt, really truly, that she and I were a team. I was a good kid for her. I got A's in school for her. I achieved great things for her. One day I heard her say, "My daughter is the best part of my life."
When I lost her, I lost my own life. And I couldn't conceive of how I was possibly going to make it if she wasn't there. Yet here I am, eleven years later. Eleven long years later. Eleven long and hard years later. Eleven long and hard, and yup, even happy years later.
You may want to end your life to be with your Mother or to leave the pain behind. You may stay in the dark because you can't figure out how to live anymore, especially if you're facing the prospect of what seems like a never-ending sadness looming before you. I know. I've been there. That all too familiar ledge. But every time I chose to go back was another chance I was giving myself to see that I was ACTUALLY still standing.
And that's what you are doing everyday. Every time you come here to read this blog is another few minutes that you are still standing. Every time you finally make it out to the grocery store is another moment you are still standing. And every time you look at your red-faced, teary-eyed, messy-haired self in the mirror is yet another grand moment that YOU ARE STILL STANDING.
So you keep on keepin' on Motherless Daughter. You keep on keepin' on.
-TL
*this post is dedicated to my advisor, teacher and friend Professor Pierre Desir who made sure that I always remembered to keep on keepin' on.
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Thirty-something-year-old Motherless Daughter writes a blog.
4 comments:
Hi ya tl, I followed your link from the motherless daughters blog that Kez and I started. Very nice post. I lost my mom in Jan, at the age of 60 (her not me) And I was also a young child of divorce. I was 5 when they got divorced.
I have so many emotions, I'm just riding the wave.
I'll be back if you don't mind.
Hello Burfica and thanks for stopping by. You have so many emotions... I hear that. I think Motherless Daughters have all of them, and sometimes what seems like all at once! I hope you find some solace here at my blog. Welcome! And I'll be visiting you guys too.
Your writing is so honest and beautiful. I would give you a hug if I could.
Thanks. I lost my mom 20 years ago this past March 18th. I was 20. Just out of my crazy confusing teens embarking on the even more mysteries of adulthood. My mother and I did not have the chance I know we would have had to make amends and be best friends. 20 years.
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