Has it Really Been a Month?

They say "time flies when you're having fun." But in actuality, it flies all the time, even when we're not. Well, really, it's always going the same speed, but we're ignorant enough to forget that fact. However, I'm fairly certain this happens when we're too busy living our lives to pay any attention to the consistently ticking clock.

My Mom died a month ago today. It doesn't seem possible. Well, none of this does, I suppose. But feelings this fresh couldn't have actually started a full calendar month ago, could they? But they did. Despite the haze I've been in this past month, I've managed to remember almost everything, from the people who surprised me by attending the wake to the people who, frankly, annoyed me by not attending any of the services or even sending a simple email or text message. When they say, "This is when you find out who your true friends are," they are spot on.You also find out who your friends aren't, and a whole lot about your own personal strengths and weaknesses. You learn how you react to the darkest of times. And me personally? I'm currently welcoming distractions. Whether I like it or not, my kids see to it that I don't mope for too long. Antonio particularly has been helpful. His behavior was so erratic yesterday I was too busy yelling at him to realize it was Mother's Day. So, thanks for that, kid. I owe you one. My wife, Sonia sat me down on Saturday and had me re-watch the movie "Bridesmaids." That helped too. And I didn't even have to yell at it! But I did laugh.

I've also found that people have different ways of showing support. Some people will corner me with a "How you doin'?" and actually expect a salient response. While others simply send the same thought via text message. Others even walk right up and hug me. In short, I appreciate all of it. Especially since the pain is going to be spread out over time, not just confined to the day of the funeral.

Some of my happiest moments have been followed immediately by extreme sadness, and vice versa. Seeing my younger son Nate laugh fills me with joy. Then I remember how much he looks like his Grandmother, and how he'll never know her. But maybe in this case the cliche is true- if we keep her memory alive, then she's not really gone. I overheard Sonia last night pointing to a picture and asking Antonio who he saw. "That's my Grandma!" he said with a satisfied grin. I smiled and my eyes filled my tears. His inherent innocence is as uplifting as it is heartbreaking.

I still have old voicemails from both Mom and Grandma saved on my phone- even one from the day of Mom's death, asking if I'd heard from her. I've wondered whether that's healthy or not. But regardless, there they sit. I once watched a TV show where a man lost his girlfriend to a drug overdose and repeatedly called her cell phone afterward just to hear her voice. When I saw it, I thought he was nuts. Now he doesn't seem so crazy.

I should add that I feel my Grandma got short-changed in the grief department. Her death, if it had happened independent of Mom's, would've been a major family loss in and of itself. It's kind of like getting a new bike and a new 60-inch TV for Christmas. You still love the bike. And I love Grandma dearly. She was a fixture at every family event since I was born and likely would've lasted another ten years if Mom hadn't passed.

I'll end this on a lighter note. I keep Mom's cell phone in my dresser drawer. The other day I turned it on to see if anyone had tried sending her any messages. I have to say I was tempted to make some calls. Just to scare the shit out of people.

Thanks for reading, and of course, for supporting me.

-jdp

jdeprospero@gmail.com