I wrote this post several weeks ago.
She died last year, August 24th to be exact. And I suppose it was probably one of the main reasons I stopped posting. I did not post about it then because . . . well . . . I do not really know. I guess I simply did not want it a part of my blog. I did not want to talk about it. To tell you the truth, I really still do not want to talk about it.
I was at the office. I was on another call when Randi, our receptionist, came into my office. She said I had another call. She said it sounded urgent. She said it was Daddy. She said he was crying. He always gets up first. When Mom was way past her usual time of getting up, he went to check on her. She had died in her sleep.
When the dust finally settled, I thought I was doing okay. I thought I was getting back to a normal life. I thought I was moving on. I thought wrong. At first, I was focused upon Daddy and how he was doing. I guess that was my way of ignoring how badly I was doing.
It is not like Mom and I were particularly close. Honestly, most days I thought - and still think - that I was a colossal disappointment to her. No matter what I accomplished, she always found a way to tell me I could have done better. She found fault with all my boyfriends, except for The Boyfriend - him she liked. In some ways, I guess they were a lot alike. Therapist suggested that to me. Guess that explains why I sometimes wanted to strangle her and other times wanted to curl up beside her. In short, we were not close.
But life just really began to unravel after she died.