The waiting is the hardest part.

Today Dad and I went to a funeral viewing at the same church Mom's services were in. This happens to be the first one I've been to at the church since Mom's services. The sense of smell has a strong correlation to memory. There's a certain smell associated with death and funerals. It's very distinct, very somber. The moment we walked into the sanctuary I felt all the emotions rush back and it was so very familiar.

One of the family member mentioned something about today being one of the hardest days of their lives. Having so recently been there, I have to say that the blur of days from the time Mom died until she was buried were not easy, but have, by no means, been the hardest days. Initially, the body is numb to almost everything that is happening, and you're in such a whirlwind of emotions that you don't even begin to process everything that is going on. You are surrounded by family and friends, and every waking moment you find yourself within someone else's embrace. You feel comfort. You have experienced a loss, but you have yet to feel it. It's the days, weeks, and months that follow that people begin to forget and you just being to realize what has actually happened to you. There isn't a single day that goes by that you don't remember. The empty place at every meal is a reminder. Mother's Day is a reminder. Songs on the radio. Restaurants. Everything... You sometimes feel as if you're suffocating within your own body. You become an experienced pretender, sometimes almost fooling yourself. You yearn for sleep because that's the only time your mind isn't thinking, and yet even then the thinking sometimes happens. You take a shower and put on clean clothes, hoping that you can convince yourself of something you know just isn't true, or that maybe just going through the motions will bring about some miracle of peace. There is a huge hole in your soul, a void that cannot be filled, not matter how hard you try. There's a hurt so painful and so deep within yourself that nothing soothes it. You strive to remember what "normal" feels like, but then realize how ridiculous that is. The "normal" that you once knew is no more. People politely ask how you're getting along, but you think that most of them don't really want to know the truth, so you smile, and lie. It's the same lie you tell yourself, "I'm doing okay," hoping that maybe this time you'll believe it. The more you long to be "okay" the further away "okay" seems to be. It's a trip you don't get to take, a destination that you just can't quite reach. The great philosopher, Tom Petty, wrote, "The waiting is the hardest part." Today, I believe that. Waiting to feel whole again. Waiting to be "okay." Waiting to be better than okay. Waiting for normal. The waiting is the hardest part.

July 11, 2011

It's been quite a while since I've posted anything and I suppose it's mainly because I haven't had much worth talking about. We completed the cookbooks, sold the first 348, and have already ordered and received 341 more copies. They turned out really well and I'm sure Mom would have been pleased. The first Susi Miller Memorial Scholarships were awarded in May. Here is a picture of the recipients, William Bolinger, III and Emily Barger. Billy will be attending WVU and Emily will be attending Fairmont State.Mom's headstone was set at the cemetery sometime last week. It looks very nice, but was much harder for me to see than I expected. For some reason the reality of losing her surfaced again, maybe actually seeing the stone with her name on it. I've had a little more down time this summer, not having to go to work, so that makes it a little harder, as well.

As time passes, people say that this will get easier. Some days are easier than others, but there are still times when the hurt is as fresh as it was in the beginning, maybe worse. We've now each had a birthday, Mother's Day, and Father's Day. I'm not sure Mother's Day will ever get any easier.

We're now in the midst of planning a benefit dinner that will take place on August 28. Dad chose this date close to what would have been Mom's 50th birthday on August 30. It is our hope that this will become a yearly event this time each August.