My mom would have been 75 today. It’s been 7 years since the car accident, and it seems unreal that this much time is a cavern between us. I am awake, sitting in the quiet of the morning alone, wondering how today will feel. There is a heft to grief, even years later. Ever since that day, I think I live on the cusp of anticipatory grief for everyone else I love. They will someday be taken from me, or I will die before I get to love them all the way to the end of the world.
It is hard being in my brain. But it comforts me to know that I am not a strange being from somewhere else. I am just a human on this rock, and the inside of everyone’s brains can be terrifying and worrisome too, sometimes.
I have to give a presentation today at work, and all I want to do is talk about my mom. About her laugh, her peanut butter pie, her blue, blue eyes, and her love for my boys, and the way she made everyone feel, well, special. But mostly about her perfect grace that I have had the luxury of thinking about all these days, months, and years. How she forgave me over and over. I am practicing giving grace to others all this time.
I am not great at it yet, but I hope I have more time to try.
ilysm
xo
Amy
I would love it if you downloaded the app! See below. I am going to go LIVE soon and it will alert you. I also plan on hosting some workshops and get togethers on this new LIVE feature. Thanks.
Oh you, I feel this so deeply. Thank you for sharing it. "Ever since that day, I think I live on the cusp of anticipatory grief for everyone else I love." Yes, I have that same responses to losing my parents. I just didn't know how to say it. Thank you.
I’m holding a corner of the ache with you, from all the way over here in the desert. I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but as I read this piece, I kept thinking, ‘wherever she is (everywhere), she much be so proud of Amy.’ You are magic. xo