Reflections

Grief

• By fannieb
• August 10, 2017
• No Comments

Tears streamed down my face. I had just crossed the Delaware Memorial Bridge into South Jersey only five minutes earlier.  The majority of the miles between my home in Virginia and my childhood home in New Jersey were behind me. At this point in my drive, a drive I’d made dozens of times over the years, I could envision pulling up into the driveway of 108 Granby Street. I could see my mom greeting me at the front door. I could feel her warm, comforting embrace. However, this time, as I pictured my mom standing there, a lump formed in my throat, tears welled up in my eyes, and cascaded down my face. My long forgotten grief was in front of me, once again.

You see, this trip was the first time I’d been back to New Jersey since my mother’s death, four years earlier. The reward that had always awaited me at the end of this sometimes grueling five-hour drive would not be there. It no longer existed.

So I cried. The voice in my head whined, Why can’t I see my mom again?  Why can’t I have that reward? Then, as quickly as self-pity and grief had overtaken me they dried up along with my tears. My complaints and resistance to what is were replaced by my mom’s voice saying, “I’m here with you all the time, Trish.”  Instantly I felt the truth in her words.

I’ve only cried over the loss of my mom four times.  Each time my emotions were triggered by something quite unexpected, catching me off guard.  The first was the night before my first day at a new job, four months after her death.  The second was at my 25^th college reunion almost a year after her passing.  The third took place two years after her death when I had completed my first set of coach training classes.  And the fourth was during this drive almost a whole four years since her spirit left this earth.

It’s surprising that these feelings of loss, emptiness, and longing, tucked safely away for long periods of time, can escape without warning, exposing the depth of my loss.  Showing me that while I have moved on, I will never really be over losing her, a piece of my heart gone forever.

Photo Credit: Tom Pumford