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Guest Mom'sGirl

NOTE: I originally posted this as a reply to my last post and then realized it might get lost in the shuffle...so here's a copy...

I'm back...

Is it normal to be numb? It has been a week since my mom died, and I'm having a hard time even crying. I wake up every day with a terrible stomachache and a sense of sadness and dread, but no tears. I cry sometimes, but not often and not for long. I feel like I'm in some sort of denial. It's too painful to think of normal life without her. My husband took this week off from work, so we're still in this state of being suspended from real life.

Selfishly I thought I would have my five-year-old son to comfort - he and my mom were so tightly bonded and in love, she was a HUGE part of life, and he tearfully worried the whole time she was sick that she wouldn't get better. He would tell her "You don't need medicine to make you better, Nana, you have your GRANDSON for that", and he'd wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. Of course I am NOT wishing him to be crying and devastated, but I guess I did not expect the opposite and the level of dismissal he is showing. He is a smart and sensitive little guy, and I get irritated when well-meaning people say to me "Oh, he's only five, he has no idea what's going on. He won't be bothered." I guess I worry that maybe the pain is deep he is just burying it. I had to go to his school to fill out some papers for kindergarten, and I left just shaking, realizing that my mom will not be part of this big event in his life, sending him cards and making him cookies, etc. like she always did. She wasn't able to attend his preschool graduation b/c she was on chemo and could not be in big crowds, but she was at our house afterward with her plate of cookies and her balloons and lots of hugs.

My 3-year-old daughter always seems to be nearby when I do shed a few tears, and she says "Don't worry, Mommy, Nana's up in heaven feeding Jodie (our goldfish that died). And she has God there, too. And she's not sick anymore, God made her better." Then she'll go outside and point up at the sky and say "LOOK, Mommy, there's Nana!" She is my wise little one...

Anyway, I went to the OB yesterday for my monthly checkup and was so depressed. I hate needles, and I was flinching as they drew blood and then started thinking about what my mom went through, and how this was so minor and I needed to stop being so dramatic. That led to some tears finally. I think the lab guy thought I was insane. Of course I am happy that the baby seems healthy, but I also am terrified of having this baby without my beautiful mom holding my hand as she's always done during my deliveries, crying happy tears with me and reaching for her new grandchild.

I've also been having nightmares about my mom, really bad ones. My sisters said they are as well. Seeing her slowly dying and gasping for air, and then the moment she took her last breath - it's all starting to come back to me and haunt me.

I'm so afraid of the moment that this will all come crashing down on me. My mom has not even been buried yet - she is going to be at Arlington National Cemetery and there is always a wait. She will be buried on 8/14. My friends keep saying "You just need that closure of the burial, and then things will get better..." Ha! I'm not even thinking of the burial, I'm thinking of getting through the rest of my days without my mom.

Sorry to go on and on...I guess I just thought I would be perched on a window ledge at this point, and instead I can't even cry. I can't let the pain fully in, it's too frightening.

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" From the Mouths Of Babes Come words of wisdom and comfort". Children have an uncanny sense of things I think. My nephew and niece came for the Funeral of My late wife who they really did not know that well. He looked at me and said Aunt Debbie Is ok Now Really. 5 years old and he knew what was going on so well. The tears will come and let them come freely. And Often. IF you want to hurry the process listen to the country station on the radio. You can read a lot into almost every song. There is about 6 songsI still have to pull over and Listen to because I start cying so hard.

Denial is the stage where you are at. Reality will hit when the Internment takes place probably. Look up not down. Your Mom is in heaven not in the ground. Her physical body is in the ground but her spirit is in Heaven where a big reunion is taking place with all who have passed before her. She will always be looking down and smiling over you no matte where you are. She is your guardian angel now; with you 24/7. I sttod next to Debs Casket for both viewings holding Her cold Hands trying to warm them up and delivered a eulogy that made everyone cry including Me. Almost could not finish it but Did. I get signs of her now and you will too. You wll see things that remind you of mom. Be it a bird or Flower that she loved you will find and See something. Much Love and Joy to you during this very troubling time. You will get through this and we are always here to help if you need us. Hope something Here helps a little Bit.

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(((Michele)))

Please know that we are here for you. You do not need to apologize for anything. I all too know the sorrow and pain you are feeling for the loss of your mom. I also know about your children feeling the loss of their grandmother, my dad died last year the day before my girls started school. Your children, while they grieve in their own young ways are a tremendous source of comfort and healing. Their perspectives are incredible!

I too remember the nightmares, the shock, I also felt a piece of my heart had died when my dad died. But there was an incredible sense of weight lifted off my shoulders that my dad was not in pain any longer. Please I hope you go to your moms' burial.

My dad is a vet and he is buried at the National Cemetary down in Cape Cod. It was beautiful, and it was what he wanted, I was so glad that we could give him that. His young grandchildren were there and it was so, so touching that when the interment was over, all the children, took flowers from his arrangements and started to play and laugh on the grass!!! It was too beautiful and so fitting, I know that "grampy" was looking down smiling ear to ear.

Michele, just take one day at a time, I can't tell you any timetables, we are all different, we grieve or don't grieve in our own ways. Please take care.

You and your family and mom are in my prayers.

Grace

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Michele,

I know how very hard these days are for you. I pray for you to have the strength to get through them. I was 27 when I lost my Mom & my oldest was 6 1/2 and the little two were 2 1/2. My oldest was also very close to Grandma, but it's impossible for any child under the age of 8 or so to fully comprehend death.

As far as crying, I didn't cry at the "normal" times after her death. Little things would trip me off, sometimes months and months later. I once had to leave a store because I saw a mother and daughter together and couldn't handle the thought that I'd never be anywhere with my Mother again. Then there was the time that I was filling up my washing machine and just burst into tears for no apparent reason. Can't explain some of the whys and why nots of grieving and crying. They happen differently to different people.

My Mother's last days were hell too, but after time, I began to remember the good times with her -- not just all the pain that her cancer caused. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but that time will come for you too. Your world has changed forever and it will take time to adjust to "a new life" without your Mother. Until then, just take deep breaths and try and hang on. I know how much this just plain sucks.

(((Hugs)))

Welthy

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You sound so totally normal to me!

I really didn't shed a lot of tears after my dad and mom died. After the initial mourning, there was this huge vacuum, just an emptiness. I mean, I cried when she died, and through all of the funeral stuff, but it felt like I was on auto-pilot for a long time. I actually chided myself for laughing and joking with the neighbors because I thought I should not feel even momentary happiness (silly, but true. And yes, I know better)!

But going through some of the "firsts" has brought about some of the loss and sadness. I got pissed at a man in Lowe's parking lot. He was my dad's age, and I was mad that he was alive but my dad wasn't! I was able to let loose one night recently; I just felt the horrible loss weighing me down. Sometimes these things hit you and may seem unreasonable or unexplainable, but it's ok.

Do go to the funeral. It may or may not tie up the loose ends, but you will not have second thoughts about "what if I HAD gone" and it might be a bit healing.

My best to you.

~Karen

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Michele,

I replied to you below my post, but accidentally hit the back button and got so disgusted with myself I had to close the laptop this AM...

I'll tell you what I've experienced so far. At first, I didn't cry too much. But I also felt like I knew something else was coming--like I wasn't experiencing the grief fully, by a longshot.

Then Mother's Day came. I knew it was going to be really hard, but what happened is that I feel like I came out of the shock. Not fully, mind you, but really quite a bit. After that day, it has just gotten harder. I don't say "worse," because I don't look at my grief as a burden, I look at it as a gift, like my cousin said to me, of how much my mom and I loved each other. If I didn't have this grief I know I'd feel VERY empty.

Since then I will tell you that I have cried every day. Sometimes just for ten seconds, other times I'm sad and crying off and on the whole day. I cry the way Welthy says she cried--no rhyme or reason to much of it, and I really can't control it, nor do I really try to much of the time. It stings so badly to hear others talk about "their mom." It hurts to see moms my age out with their daughters. It saddens me to see grandmas with their grandchildren. I feel lost, like I should have died with my mom.

As far as your kids are concerned, you really can't make them grieve one way or another. It has just been a week, so it is going to take time, just like it will take time for you, too. The shock is a wonderful coping mechanism your body uses to help you through these early days. It may be confusing to you right now as to why you are not shedding tears constantly, but trust me, it WILL come. Don't rush it. Just last week, my daughter really started crying when I said something about Grandma. At bedtime, I asked her why she was crying, and she started all over again, saying, "I think I really miss Grandma." So we sat on the bed and talked for a long time about her. I told her whenever she wanted to talk about her she should come to me. I am quite proud that she feels this way, because it shows how close she was to her Grandma. My son, however, doesn't show too much emotion about it. Yeah, it hurts, but I certainly can't push them to feel one way or another.

I am not really having nightmares about my mom's bad times. But I did with my grandma, and her death landed me in the hospital for two weeks back in 1995. Every single thing you are feeling is completely normal, although I know it makes you feel no better. Unfortunately you may be just feeling the hard-hitting grief when you're about ready to have that baby. When I had to have a phone consultation with my mom's oncologist about the rapid growth of her cancer, I missed my biophysical profile and NST that day, I was so upset, and I couldn't even call the perinatologist's office, my husband called them for me. I told him, "Tell them I don't know when I'll be back, either." And then later that week, I knew I had to go, because I certainly wasn't going to let anything happen to the baby. When I went there, I was holding back tears. My nurse asked me what was wrong, and I told her, "My mom doesn't have long, I mean, I think it's going to be weeks." My husband was fully convinced that she would be here for Christmas and well beyond, but I knew better.

Then my mom died, and I was scheduled for my c-section two weeks later. I told my perinatologist, "Please, give me another week. I just can't do it." So he finally agreed. What I didn't know was that that extra week would really do nothing for me. When I gave birth, looking back on it, it was like a fog. I was robbed of that beautiful experience by the shock.

By then I had stopped walking around all day, peering around corners and looking for her, waking my husband up in the middle of the night, and letting him pee with the bathroom door shut. But today I still say things like, "Ok, Mom, I really need to see you today. I'm going to go into your room, and close my eyes, and when I open them, you're going to be there." Then when she's not, I collapse on the bed in sobs. Right now I don't understand why she can't come back to me so I can see her. I need to hear her voice, I need her to tell me something profound to assure me that she knows Ian is here, that she is proud of him and watching over all of us. I need her to tell me she hears every word I say to her.

I honestly don't know that you're going to feel better after the burial. My mom was waked and buried quickly, and those days went by in a whirlwind, and then everyone was gone and soon after I needed to get back to some semblance of normal for my kids' sake, and concentrate on having this baby. I just kept thinking, "my mom was born, and she was my grandparents' first baby, so loved, so wanted, and when she first got sick at age 12, my grandparents hurt right along with her, and then throughout her hard life. She didn't live that long by statistical standards, but she had a lot of events in her life, good and bad. She had me, and I am what she always says is her 'greatest achievement in life.' And suddenly she's gone. And we're forced to bury her so quickly, and we will never see her again." A person lives a long life, full of meaning, and then suddenly they are gone and need to be buried instantly. It is just so hard for their loved ones to handle. It's hard to explain, but suffice it to say that I found NO comfort in burying my mom; on the contrary, it only made it harder for me. We had a day where she was waked, and then another viewing the next AM before the Mass, and then we went to the cemetary. In the AM before we went to church, I spent a lot of time up there, and then was instructed to sit down, where they closed a curtain so they could close up the casket. I swear I craned my neck right up until the last tiny bit of that curtain was closed. Because I was so scared of how she would look when we went to the wake, I stayed back for a good hour before I had to go up there. And when I did, she looked just beautiful. Seriously, I hate it when people say "they look so peaceful, so good." My uncle said once, "if they look so good, why are they in there??" Exactly! But my mom, she really did look beautiful. As an only child, I had to pick out everything she wore, and I chose the dress she married my stepdad in. I'm so glad I did. So I am not haunted by seeing her in that casket--at least I have good memories of that, because when we arrived at the care center after we got the call, she looked just DEAD. Not at peace. DEAD. And that is something I AM haunted by.

I'll tell you something confidentially: When my mom died, I had this terrible feeling that it was because something was going to happen to Ian, and she went to Heaven because God wanted to be sure someone was there to welcome him. I know it sounds morid...I just couldn't get it out of my head. So when I heard a good, strong cry when he was born, I cried...for a lot more than one reason.

You know, there are so many things I could say to you, Michele. We are leading seemingly parallel lives. I am just a bit further ahead of you in the grief process. I just can't believe someone else has to endure this. It makes me shake with sadness.

I started to talk to you about those sandals in my last post before I hit the back button and lost it all. I'm sure you know how precious those sandals will be to you for ever and ever. The last thing my mom ever bought for me was a ton of maternity clothes for Christmas. She was in the hospital and we opened our gifts over the phone. She said, "I think I did a pretty good job this year!" Meaning she had bought the kids a lot of things they liked. She bought them a lot of clothes and two pairs of shoes each for school. Now they are outgrowing those clothes and shoes and it is KILLING me. I will save them for ever. But she never got to buy anything at all for Ian. I swear I think of this all the time and it hurts so badly. I wish she had been able to get him a card, a bib, anything. Something she touched, held, and picked especially for him. When he was born, his announcement said, "precious baby, so sweet and new, you have an angel watching over you." And this has been the theme for everything; when he was christened we gave him a blanket with this saying stitched around the binding. If my mom couldn't be here to give him a gift, I wanted to make sure he knows her through the memories I have of her.

I could write for ever and ever, but I'll post for now, and tell you that you'll make it through. Keep in mind that although your kids may frustrate you for the way they act, are not sensitive towards your feelings, or make you angry, they are also a lot of the times the one thing that will make you smile when you didn't even know you needed it, by things they say or do. And when you have this baby, I'm telling you that it will seem like a tangible gift your mom has left for you, and it will bring you joy through the pain. Our kids are the things that our moms were most proud of. When my twins were born, my mom said to me, "I said you were beautiful, and you were, but that Saoirse, she is simply STUNNING." Don't you know how proud I was??

Keep writing. Don't question your feelings or those of others. I'm here for you whenever you need a shoulder, and I do understand.

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Michele:

When I read you post you sounded like me. My daughter and my dad were the best of friends. She was his only grandaughter. He watched her twice a week until he died this June. She is also five and starts kindergarten this year. When he died I thought she would be devasted like I was and crying like me. The opposite happened. No reaction at all. Not a tear, not a question about grandpa, nothing. In fact when the rabbi mentioned her name she smiled at me. When we told her grandpa died she said "Can I go out and play now". Everyone said the same thing people said to you. Until recently, she didn't even talk about it. She will say now that my grandpa is dead and in the ground. She will say "I miss my grandpa" but other than that barely talks about him unless I do.

Why no reaction, I don't know. I think we expect them to react like we do and they can't. I have only begun to start crying more. I still don't believe he is gone. I still want to believe when I call his house he will answer. I still want to believe that he will come back and see Megan go to kindergarden.

I have dreams about him every night and I don't know if it will get easier or the pain gets any less.

Robyn

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I honestly didn't even start the real crying until Mom had been gone about nine months. I had some other difficultish things to travel through during those months and all of my energies were focused there.

Those first few weeks for me, I kept saying that I didn't know how to grieve. I couldn't figure it out. I knew I was supposed to be crying or something, but instead I just did normal life. It is amazing how 'normalish' things just keep happening in the midst of wholly abnormal.

Praying for you and that baby. I know how much you must long to just put that baby in her arms... I so wish that you could.

Know that whatever you are feeling is ok. Numb, sad, angry, mournful, whatever.

And know too that we will be here to help you process when more feelings and words come.

Many, many ((((hugs))))) to you.

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Guest Mom'sGirl

Wow, you guys all brought up things that I could relate to.

Jealousy - my two best friends (who are 41) not only still have their moms, they have their GRANDMOTHERS. These women are aged 99 and 92. I know that because of that I shouldn't assume they will have their own mothers for the next 25 years, but I do. Genetically the women in their families are miracles. Yet of course I would NEVER wish this hell on anyone, ever. I feel guilty for feeling jealous. The other day I saw a very old woman getting into a car and I thought DAMMIT, that should be my mom. My heart just ached. My mom was so young at heart and so active, I pictured her living to be a very feisty old lady. We all did. We completely assumed she would outlive our dad by many years, esp. since he is five years older, is a bit of a pessimist and does not take care of himself. I think he is just as shocked as the rest of us.

Denial - or maybe waiting for the other shoe to drop, as some of you said. Knowing that this can't be it, this numbness and inability to truly grieve. My mom has been gone less than two weeks, and somehow it seems a lifetime. It amazes me that I can calmly look at pictures of her without sobbing my eyes out. When I was grieving over the babies I lost (one was at five months pregnant and I had to deliver her), I could not even go near any of the sonogram pictures - it was so unbearable I would completely lose control. But this is my MOM, the love of my life, my best friend, my rock, someone I have loved every day I've been on this earth. I had never really "met" the babies I lost. I feel like my mom deserves more, and I just can't muster it.

I think I had a partial breakthrough on Monday. My husband finally went back to work, and me and the kids went over to my parents' house since it was my dad's birthday. A huge part of our weekday routine has always been going to my parents' house once or twice a week to play with Nana and Pop-Pop, even through the illness. My dad wasn't home when I got there, and having to unlock the door kind of set me off...whenver we'd pull up my mom was always out the door and pulling the kids out of the van for hugs before I could even turn off the engine. I went into the quiet house and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked in the coat closet and all of her sporty little fleece jackets were there and they smell like her, and her sunglasses were on the kitchen table. Then I went upstairs to use her bathroom and her nightgown was still hanging on the back of the door. I couldn't control my crying so I just took the kids out back and set up the kiddie pool. Then while they played I sat there and waited for my mom to come out with her glass of iced tea and sit down next to me. The absolute silence was deafening. It was so brutal, I cannot even express it. I wanted to just rip my hair out. I was so angry, and felt so cheated and lost, especially as I watched my kids playing with the hose and running around the backyard without my mom there to join in.

I am just praying for this burial to be over. As much as I think Arlington Cemetery is beautiful and such an honor, I feel like it's more for my dad than my mom. My dad was the one in the military..and although we live in the Washington area, it's so difficult to fight your way through traffic and tourists to get there. And they are very strict about things - tombstones are all the same and generic, you can't plant anything around them, etc. My mom was so into gardening, I envisioned us constantly planting seasonal flowers, etc. We had been considering a cemetery closer to where my sisters and I live (my brothers live out of town), but my dad changed his mind at the funeral home. It really hurts b/c my sisters and I will basically be the only ones going there, and we so wanted something more personal and peaceful. My dad said the other day, "Now girls, I don't want you to be disappointed in where your mom is buried in the cemetery, we have no say in any of this, they assign plots daily and we don't know where she'll end up, etc..." I just looked at him and said I have no expectations.

My sisters and I also need to make a time to go through my mom's stuff. I am dreading that SO much. It's hard to even go in the bedroom. Actually the whole house is just HER.

I feel like there's so much I still needed to learn from her. Every day I realize things I never asked her, recipes I never got...as close as we were, there's never enough time for all of that. Wow, I think I'm actually starting to tear up. Yet I feel myself pushing it away already b/c my heart is pounding and the pain is starting to blind me as I write.

Gotta sign off now, I just can't talk about this anymore.....

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Michele--

Our brains are funny things too. They will try to protect us by NOT dealing with it at first, or keeping you kind of in a 'denial' state for most of the day.... The loss that you've just experienced is a HUGE shock to your system so because your brain doesn't know what to do with that, the feelings come later as the loss becomes more concrete.

My husband is in the Navy and is gone very often. About a month after my Mom died, my husband left for a six month deployment. A big part of me thought that when my husband got home, my Mom would come back too. Part of me felt (and still feels) that she's just gone for a long time and eventually she'll be back. The upside of that is it allows me to cope, the downside of that is that I am effectively hit over and over and over again by the realization that she's NOT coming back.

You are in the VERY BEGINNING of this journey. There is no 'supposed to' here. You can't make yourself feel anything. Feelings take time. More will come when the shock and the numbness wear off... And that will be hard--just as wondering why you aren't 'feeling more' is bewildering and hard. It all stinks... It just really does. But... it's what is facing us, so we walk through it.

And the jealousy--yeah I get hit with that too... When my friends talk casually about doing things with their Mom, or I see a Grandma, a Mom, and a Grand-daughter about Carolyn's age it is hard not to feel that pang of envy. I guess that's part of it too. It's hard... but eventually I think we can channel those feelings into knowing that we can't take ANY of our loved ones for granted. BUT--the last bit doesn't have to be forced. Don't be hard on yourself when you feel those feelings. They're all part of the game.

(((((hugs))))) to you. I wish this didn't have to happen to anyone.

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Michele,

Yeah, I'm jealous of everyone who has a mom, too. Recently I told my husband, "Nothing against your mom, but why is it fair that your mom is almost 10 years older than my mom and she's still here?" In all honesty my brain is very confused as to why my mom isn't here, since she was YOUNG. It's hard to explain, but I'll bet you know what I'm talking about. She wasn't a teenager who tragically died in a car accident and had a whole life to live. She wasn't a young mother who left young children behind. But she missed a whole chapter in her life, where she enjoys her later years, watches her granchildren grow and change. She was just 64. I look at the pictures of her, and she looks so healthy, so young, so happy. And she's gone??? Impossible. I know she was not healthy by ANY standards, but she always looked beautiful. When my best friend talks about her mom, how she's frustrated with her, and she's morbidly obese with all kinds of health and mental problems, she says, "I just don't think my mom is going to live much longer, that's a fact." Her mom has attempted suicide more than once. And she talks so nonchalantly about it I want to shake her. Just the other day I saw a toddler, mom, and grandma all walking down the street and it stung--really, really stung.

I feel exactly the same way as Val when she says that she feels like her mom is just gone for a long time but she will eventually come back. I am always saying, "Ok, Mom, six months is WAY too long to be gone from us. Come back. Please come back." And she will, and somthing will be very different, but she'll be back, and that's what matters. At this point I swear I am waiting for something big to happen (don't ask me what) and at that point I'll be released from this limbo hell I've been in for six months. I will be able to get those recipes from her, I'll be able to tell her that her cats are getting along with ours now. It makes me crazy that things are happening and I can't tell her about them. I swear I keep thinking, "ok, this happened, and I can't tell her, but I've got to remember it so I can tell her later." But my brain won't let me realize THERE IS NO LATER.

Don't think you've got to start rooting through your mom's things already. I just began to pack things up from my mom's room and I think it's what set off what has been a floodgate of sadness and depression for me. I did not expect it, either. I have gone through my mom's things before to find something, or to just feel close to her. But packing things up, throwing things way, it just seems disrespectful, and I hate it. I have no choice, because we are planning on putting the house up for sale soon. And I've realized how hard it will be to not have my mom's room to go into, to close the door and sit on her bed when I need to. It scares me.

Anyway, you can't rush emotions, so don't even try. I'm learning that, too. I went to the cemetery on Tuesday, which was the six month anniversary, and sat by her grave for...I don't know...a LONG time. It was a lot harder of a day than I had expected. Maybe because I thought I still had more "shock in me" than I do. I was kind of counting on it, actually. But it's been fading away slowly and this rather snuck up on me, I suppose. These days I haven o control over my emotions, and I don't know what to expect from moment to moment. It's the oddest, emptiest, strangest feeling I have ever had. It has become the mark of who I am. And I am settling into the acceptance of this new me.

Be gentle with yourself.

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I can very much relate to what you're going through. It has been almost 5 months since we lost my dad, and most of the time I still can't really connect with the grief. I think it must be a protective thing our amazing minds do to preserve sanity until we are really and truly ready to face the reality of our loss, and all of the pain that goes with it. It used to bother me that I felt so numb about losing my dad, but now I just let my feelings come and go as they will. I wish you the best in this new life without your mom.

Big Hugs!

Laura

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There is no requirement or quota of tears or days dedicated to the death of someone. Your still in shock, it was all of 5 months from beginning to end and no time for shock then. Don't be so hard on yourself or expect anything......everyone and every situation is different. Go threw the emotions as they come since they are hard enough to contend with as it is ... don't add standards and rules to them. Your kids are the purest form of humanity .... let them lead you and hear their words.

Good luck to you,

Tammy

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Wow. You guys have hit a lot of these emotions right on the head. the jealousy...I feel that one all the time. Sometimes I can't stand for Patrick's mom to hold Caroline -- it should be MY mom. She was the cool one, the one who waited and waited and waited for her only daughter to finally have a baby. She is the one who should buying little pink clothes and staying up with Caroline when I am just too tired. None. None of it is far.

I agree with Val, my real sadness is just now starting. I miss her so much more now thatn I did the first few months. The feelings are less raw, less out of control but the longing to have her with me is so much more real.

My friend just had a baby and her momis with her...I never got that. I will never know what it is like to see my mom's face or to hold her hand when bringing a new life into the world. We never went shopping for baby clothes or a halloween outfit and it just kills me.

I am so sorry that Val, Michele, Erin, Kathy, etc have all had to go through this...it juts sucks. Please have faith in the fact that your mom is watching over your little ones.....The most moving thing my mom said to me was: "Holly, don't think I am going to be somewhere missing you or the baby. Missing you or missing out would be sad and that is not what Heaven is about. God would never make Heaven hard."

I am here for all of you.

Love,

Holly

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It's been 11 months - almost 1 whole year, and I still feel numb. All of the beautiful posts above about daughters losing their Moms are so perfectly written, and a wonderful tribute to their relationships. From the way I feel this past year, I could have written them. But to be honest, I'm still numb. I think of my Mom everyday in one way or another. I'm wondering when it will truly hit me that she is gone and I'm kind of afraid at how devastating it will be.

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