8 months

Today is 8 months since my mother died. She died on a Wednesday too. Today is Wednesday. I try to think back on that day and I can't remember much. Just remember being in a daze-like state, on automatic mode. I don't remember how I got home after I left the hospital. If I ate anything. Not even if I picked my son from school or not.

So much has happened since then. So many changes still happening in our family. My sister is moving, a bit far from what I am used to. My dad is thinking of moving on his own - he's been with me since she passed. It looks like I finally will get the promotion I have been waiting for years.

I like to think that she is up there ... smiling at how we are doing and watching over us. I like to think that she is the reason why all the pieces are falling into place for my sister. I like to think that she is somehow still keeping my dad company. I like to think that she is watching over the kids every second of every day. Their special guardian angel.

To me ... I like to think that somehow she is still in Puerto Rico, spending time with her sister and my cousins and my cousins's kids ... happy sorrounded by people that love her. A friend not long ago said she dreamt about her ... that she appeared to her in a dream and told her to tell my dad, to not worry about her ... that she found Nala (our dog) and that they were together and happy.

I miss her. A lot. I miss having my mom. Here. With me.

The Language of Letting Go

In the 2nd night of the parenting class the instructor suggested a book called "The Language of Letting Go" to another participant. It is basically meditations and is geared towards persons that are co-dependent and yeah... I think I am one of those ... or at least I have issues of co-dependency. Whatever rocks my boat, right? Anywhoooooo.... the instructor told this person to always read the current day PLUS what is written for August 17th ... and me, being that I love reading just had to get the book and well, I started reading it (and doing as I was told.)

Ironically when I commented to a friend about it she mentioned that she had it and in its time, it was of great help to her. And well, in my mind I started connecting the dots ... Paulo Coelho (one of my favorites authors) wrote in "The Alchemist" that (and don't quote me on this) when something is for you, the Universe conspires to bring it to you. I took the fact that my friend read this book as something I needed to do to ... more so when its message just sinks in the depths of my soul when I read it ... is like, the message is so important, so profound, that I have to read it more than once so it can sink in properly.

In tonight's class, she asked the participant to read the August 17th entry ... and I just don't know why but it opened the flood gates for me and through out the class, I just couldn't seem to close them back. It is just something about when something so deep is read out loud, that just touched a nerve in me. And I was seating at the front and I am sure the instructor could see me but I just kept my head down and I listened and I took notes. Notes that I promise I will be sharing here as it will be a way to remind myself and share it with others. The last thing she said, just struck such a deep chord in me that once I filled out my post-test, I got up and left, again 'cause I was crying and I didn't want her or anyone there to see me like that. She said that we are the product of our mothers ... I am my mother ... I am my mother?! ... I guess is true ... I am my mother.

In time I will decide if I really write about my mother in here or not. I do know and realize that she did the best she could with what she had. And I have nothing but love and respect for her. I understood how big her love for me and my sis was when I became a mother. So don't think that I am in any way, shape or form putting down my mother. Is just that ... I never saw or thought of myself being my mother. Period.