It doesn't matter the age of a loved one when they die. It always hurts. And, for me, I'm finding time doesn't make it much easier. If anything, I miss Mom more now than when she died. Everyone said I was in shock then. Even though it was certainly expected.
As the anniversary approaches of the day she died, I find myself depressed. When most people are getting a healthy dose of spring fever, I'm ready to go back to hibernation. I know it will pass. At work, at least, nobody would know how I feel. I deal with the public so I have to be "on" at all times. Which helps.
Death sucks. No matter what the age. I can't believe it will be 5 years. It seems like 2 years at most. For those of us who believe in the afterlife, it's much easier. I don't know what I believe. Sometimes, I believe our loved ones are having a great old time "over there" and waiting to be reunited with us. At other times, I lose sight of those good thoughts.
What I do know is this. I've been at the bedside of several people getting ready to die. And everyone of them in the days and hours leading up to death were reaching out. Everyone of them. What did they see? Who were they reaching for? Was someone beckoning them? Letting them know they had love and support when they passed? Gosh, I sure want to believe in that.
I guess the only thing we can do is treat our loved ones who are still with us with love. And know that we've done our best while we had the ones with who have passed. Still...I wish I could go back and do it better...
I miss you, Mom. And I will see you again, someday...
