I've come to a realization, I have always written for my mom. Wait that isn't exactly right. I write for myself, I never shared everything with her. But she was often the sounding board for my ideas and thoughts which I could later put in words, in short she was my muse. And without a doubt she was my biggest fan. For my luddite mom I had printed out and spiral bound printouts of the posts that I thought she would like. She kept the books by her bedside, and any number of times, when I called, she would say that she had been re-reading my posts. With my photo cards, she always got the first one and then I would send them out to others. Since I'm not sharing my photos, my photography has also suffered.
On the one hand I am comforted to know of another connection that I had with my mom. Untwine-ing the grief has been a daunting task. A task that I simply do not want to undertake. For the most part, I have shoved it into the corner and try to ignore it. Yes, I know, you can't do. It escapes and unbidden images of her last days flash and I am consumed with tears. The regrets of what I did and did not do pile up until I have to forcefully shove the grief back down and into the corner so that I can get on with my day without looking like the hot mess that I feel. When I sit down to write the grief drapes over me like a veil that permeates my soul, the tears flow freely and I hear whimpers escape my lips. I sit in my sadness finding and it hard to put words down. Keeping the grief in the corner means soundly ignoring it. I find the most effective way to ignore anything these day is by casting myself into infinite browsing mode and avoiding the key board and pen. But infinite browsing mode leaves me drained, sleep deprived and fragmented. I needed to find a way through this and that means sitting down with the veil dropped over me, feeling all these feelings I find uncomfortable to feel. I know, too, that Mom would want to me write and find my voice, so I have to push through this veil and push at it until I find my voice again now that my muse is gone.
So beginning today--I plan to post everyday for the next 100 days. It may only be a sentence, it might be more. Or in this case, editing the post I wrote yesterday. The posts may be rambling or incoherent but I will write something, I need to find my inner muse and the only way I feel that I can beacon her is with words.
Comments