people ask me how i'm doing. honestly, i don't know. i haven't been able to find words to describe it, aside from feeling like i'm still in the fog of comprehending what's happened over the last four months. some days i refuse to believe it's true and sometimes i break down wondering how my life could ever continue without her. getting back to los angeles scared me because reminders of her would come flooding back. i would call her on my way into work most days of the week, or while i was baking i'd ring her for consultation (is it supposed to look like that?). i just want to hear her voice again.
on march 26th, my mom peacefully took her last breaths of air. my heart feels like it has been torn into millions of tiny pieces. to have this huge part of my heart now missing from my life is utterly overwhelming.
i made an emergency trip home to boston over a month ago when my mom entered a hospice residence. i wept with my family as we grasped the enormity of the catastrophe lying ahead. now that we're in it, i'm finding at times a certain comfort to share with others who have experienced a similar loss. as my friend sara put it, we're in a club together that a select few can understand. a club we would never ask to join.
my mom was the epicenter of our family. we stayed in orbit because of her. i'm worried about what might happen to us without her. as my brother wisely noted, she was a force of nature. how can we exist without that force?
what i will say from this experience so far, is that i have some of the most amazing, caring, loving, fantastic friends and family around me. i compare it to a meditation i learned a few months ago where one of the visualizations was to imagine yourself being lifted in the air on a fluffy cloud. my friends and family were and continue to be that cloud for me. i'm forever grateful to them, beyond words can convey.
soon i'll feel inspired to be in this space again, i'm still figuring out living day by day.
mums and me at the getty center a couple of years ago.