My grief has been hitting particularly hard. The day my mom passed, I sobbed. Hard. For a long time. While her death wasn’t unexpected, it was unreal that she was actually gone. And then I quickly fell into the doing…thinking about her service, writing liturgy, helping sort at the house. The busy work of grief. And I didn’t feel it much. I missed her, but it didn’t sting like grief often does. And then January came and my grief hit like a ton of bricks. Grief is funny that way. It comes in all kinds of shapes and sizes, often unpredictably for things we’d never imagine.
I’ve been remembering a lot and savoring various memories. And still the sadness lingers. And that’s ok. I’d certainly tell someone I counsel at the church that it’s ok to be sad. At the same time, I hope for something beyond the sadness. So, I thought I’d start writing and sharing memories, hoping that something more fruitful might happen, or at least that it would provoke the tears to do the healing work.
It will likely be a series of posts, memories and lessons from my mom. I like assonance as a communication tool, so I’ll stick with “Momma Mondays” and share my stories of her.