Three Years Ago

 Tomorrow is the third anniversary of Mom's death. No, it doesn't really get that much easier. No, I don't "move on" from something so traumatic and life-changing; I just try to make do the best I can until I'm ready to go. The "brain fog" is long gone. Crying and wailing all the time is also in the distant past. But the incredible lonliness and emptiness remains as nothing positive has supplanted it in any way. 

  In the past year since my last post, I spent thousands of dollars on a therapist via the BetterHelp app; it was nice to talk to somebody off and on for several months. I've been able to throw away lots of Mom's junk that I just kept in closets and sheds, unwilling to part with it; I realized none of it was needed or had any sentimental value to me at all. So there have been positive things that I've been able to do in the past year. 

  Ever since Mom's death, I've been on a Facebook group for people who have lost their mother. A woman on there took a picture of me and my beloved mother and made a cute painting of it. I'll share it here and bid you adeiou for now.

Her 66th Birthday

 Mom's 66th birthday would have been tomorrow. Every year, I would scour the greeting card section to find the perfect card for her. My birthday is exactly one month from hers, and she would do the same for me. We both kept each other's bday cards for life. For the second year now after her death, I still bought a card for my momma, and I'll probably do so as long as I live. I read it out loud and placed it on her piano on top of last year's card. I guess it's just a tradition I'll always have.

Anniversary

It was exactly a year ago today that I lost my beloved mother and absolute best friend, Carol Diane Gibbs Collins at 64 years old. I stayed by her side for the week that she was dying, her last words to me were "I love you" before she became uncommunicative for days. I didn't know what to do today, so I just drove to the nursing room where she died, sat in my car in the empty visitor parking lot with Mom's ashes for little while until the minute of her death. I even wore the exact same clothes I wore on that tragic day. I'm just very sentimental and traditional in that way. It was overcast and drizzly last year, the kind of days that Mom loved; today, it was partly sunny and hot.

 A year later, and things aren't all that much better in life; I just go through the motions in life: work, home, going out with a friend or two not often enough anymore. Things just aren't the same anymore; nothing's fun or exciting, because just about everything in my life had Mom right by my side. My twin, my next door neighbor, and my soulmate, gone 20 years too soon. I'm an only child, my father is useless, Mom's extended family hasn't been there for me, and obviously I don't have a spouse and kids. I had no money for grief therapy, so I've grieved alone for a year. I think about my momma every waking hour of my life. 

Time Has Stopped in My Living Room

  It was a year ago yesterday afternoon that my Mom spent her last day at my house. After being my next door neighbor for over ten years (and living in this house for 17 years before I took it over), she had to move in with me at the beginning of 2019 because she was getting sick and had lost everything because she couldn't work anymore. So we got the bed out of my tiny guest room and put it in the corner of the living room. That was her home for seven months, not including the several stays at the hospital and hotel. She had gotten so terribly ill from cirrhosis, each day was another disaster. I came home from work one year ago today, and Mom was halfway on the bed, barely able to do anything. She had messed herself, and couldn't even answer basic questions like her SS number, her full name, names of the president and governor. It was a nightmare to cap off seven months straight of living nightmares for me.

  I called 911, and she was carted away one last time as she mouthed "I love you" to me. One week in the hospital, then two weeks at a nursing home until her untimely and devastating death on August 16th at age 64. I haven't moved or thrown away anything of Mom's in my living room. Her bed is still there, liver disease books on her nightstand (she had been misdiagnosed for months by typically uncaring doctors, so I frantically bought books to try to help, but it was far too late). Her clothes still sit crumpled in a basket behind a special lift chair I bought for her because I thought she was going to recover. Time stopped in my living room on July 25th, 2019, and one full year later, it's still stopped. I spend very little time in there anyway, sometimes just to talk to her bed like Mom's still there, but I know this can't stay like this forever.

The 65th Birthday

Today would have been Mom's 65th birthday. Exactly a month from today is my 40th. She spent her last birthday in the hospital, recovering from severe dehydration. But her other, misdiagnosed illness was taking over, and she never got better. Her last decent week was the end of May. The next 2 1/2 months were a living nightmare, scarring and traumatic for me, every day, until her preventable and premature death. I took the day off work today because I didn't really want to be around anybody. Very, very few people can understand devastating loss and profound grief, especially when you are devoted to your mother and absolute best friend for almost your entire 39 years of life, and she was to me. Mom always got me lovely cards for my bday and I would do the same for her, and we kept all of the cards we gave each other over the years. I still bought her a card this year. I probably always will. I think about her every waking hour.

Gotta Start Somewhere

Well, hello. I guess it's time for a brief introduction. My name is Ryan, I'm 39 years old, and I live in central Florida. My beloved mother and absolute best friend, Carol, died on August 16th, 2019, at just 64 years old and after a brief illness. I'm an only child and my father and I have never had a real relationship, so it was just Mom and me for almost my entire life. She was my rock, my cheerleader, my confidant, my soulmate, of sorts, my kindred spirit. She was also my next door neighbor for over ten years, so I saw or talked to her every single day of my life then.

I've blogged about other issues and topics before under a different moniker, so I decided to dedicate a blog to the untimely and devastating loss of my mother, something that--over nine months later--is still fresh on my mind and heart, and something I think about literally every waking hour of my life. I will write about her illness, her death, my grief and my memories. I've had absolutely nobody to talk to about my pain and unfathomable heartbreak as I have no real, supportive family, my friends simply can't understand and relate, and I have no insurance, so I haven't been able to undergo grief counseling that I badly need. So, I'll write.

I have so many blogs I want to write, so many things I want to share, in hopes that others can relate and understand, and hopefully they can get some help for their grief as well through my stories. So many things to say! It may take a while for me to sort my thoughts out, but I'm finally working on it after nine full months of being too sad to sit down and write. I hope you'll pull up a chair and sit a spell.