I took my mom out shopping today. She is visiting me for a few days. By itself, it seems such an insignificant thing. To me it was not. I’m fighting my tears as I type this.
She is incredibly brave. She is picking up the pieces remarkably. I admire the way she is dealing with her deep grief and helplessness. At the same time, when she is out of sight, I feel so sad that I sometimes break down.
It has been just over a year now, since my dad died.(click on the red words you don’t know the story) A friend asked me if the grief had lessened. I told her that the pain never really goes away. It still feels raw.
When I took my mom out, I told her she looked great. She smiled. We went to a mall. She was happy. She enjoyed the outing. I overheard her calling up her sister, long distance and telling her proudly that I took her out. With my mom, I do a great job of being brave. I joke and make her laugh and console her.
I seemed to have stepped into my dad’s shoes.
They seem to be a perfect fit but I miss him more than ever.