Monday at 11:40am marks the two-year anniversary of my beloved mother and best friend's death at 64. It hasn’t been a happy two years. It’s nothing I would wish on anyone, and nobody can understand unless they’ve gone through the same devastating and life-changing loss. I’ve had people who lack empathy say things like “I’ve lost an uncle and a cousin one time.” Ummm…ok. Are you an only child, single, childless and alone, with a useless father and no other close family? Did you spend 39 years straight with your mother, side-by-side almost non-stop, together in practically every aspect of life? No? End of discussion. Go very far away.
I’ve had virtually no support from Mom’s family during the death and afterwards. No cards, no calls, no condolences on Mom’s obituary page. Two of Mom’s siblings haven’t even acknowledged her untimely death, and one asshole uncle told me to hurry up and move up just hours after I watched the woman who saw my first breath breathe her last. And in less than a year, two longtime friends have died unexpectedly, and another has moved far away to another region of the nation.
My world has gotten smaller and darker in the past two years, and I’m not the same person I used to be. All one can do is just keep going on, I suppose.
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