I continue to be overwhelmed by my feelings over my mother’s death.
I think that, subconsciously, I was aware that at least she was somewhere in the world and I guess that mattered. I didn’t know that it mattered.
Now she’s not there and I still can’t process it. I haven’t cried since the funeral…it’s like it’s too much and I can’t even comprehend that she’s gone.
It’s so complex. Her death changes nothing about what she did and her death does not grant forgiveness or forgetting for me. I’m not feeling any magical affection that didn’t exist before. It’s more like I miss the memory of her, before the abuse began. The woman that I knew very briefly when I was a toddler.
I never wanted pictures of her before but now I do…but not recent pictures, or pictures from my childhood; those are bad memories. I want pictures of her from before I was born, when she was someone else.
I can’t even think the thought that she’s gone…