Momlessness...

Sometimes, we find ourselves experiencing a mood or a combination of emotions that maybe alter our behaviors, our perceptions, our thoughts and our social realities in ways that don’t necessarily correspond to anything that’s going on in our environment. That was my situation yesterday. For all purposes, the day was going well. I woke up to the loving embrace and warm smile of my partner. We had a very nice breakfast in our hotel in Bucharest. We had very nice weather, went shopping and then a late lunch. It really was a nice day, and I had every reason to be in a wonderful mood, but I wasn’t. I suppose the most important information that is missing about yesterday was that it was my mom’s 4^th birthday since she passed, and here I was, far away from my brother and sister, far away from the cemetery where my mom is laid to rest and feeling a certain kind of way about it. While not everyone can relate to what I’m going to say, I’m sure that a lot can, and while not everything may resonate with you, as we all have our own journeys in life, I just wanted to share what I’ve now come to call “feeling momless”.

Sitting in the coffee shop, feeling rather disappointed about ordering a type of coffee that I didn’t really want (V60, it was not what I thought it was, but that is neither here nor there), in my already vulnerable state, I just felt numb. I felt a numb sadness. Almost like feeling disconnected from your own body, or from social interactions but not quite that. I was there, I was aware of my surroundings. I was even feeling fortunate and grateful to be there with such a loving, interesting and fun woman, but there was this dull sadness that blanketed my soul. It was like whatever goodness I was feeling inside, had this cover of darkness, blocking it from being expressed on my face. If I could make an analogy, it’s like the reverse image of a cloud with a silver lining, the light was within but blocked out by this dark exterior.

Inside, I feel a sense of joy and happiness to have had the mother I had. She was bright and funny, creative and empathetic, tough and scary, and tender and stern. She could make you feel proud and humble at the same time with a single word or look. I can remember giggling and dancing with her as a young child. I can hear Janis Joplin and Elvis playing in my mind when I think of her. I remember playing board games and doing homework with her. But I’m also filled with some other feelings that aren’t so great: resentment, guilt, shame, anger and sadness. Some of these feelings are just about me, some of them are aimed at her, and some of them are aimed at those around me.

I resent myself for not always being the son I should have been. As an adult, I was definitely prideful or stubborn and maybe argued with her when I should have held my tongue. I know we all do these things and that I wasn’t some kind of monster, but at the same time, in hindsight, I wish I had just chosen peace over friction. I resent her for not taking better care of herself and not prioritizing her health and well-being, and I feel guilty about resenting her for her life choices. I feel guilty for moving away when I did. If I had known that the last 10 years were going to be all that I had left with her, I would have maybe made different life choices. I’m ashamed that other people don’t value the time they have left with their loved ones and choose pride over quality time together. It’s a projection of how I feel about myself on those around me, I know this. I’m angry about how it all ended, at how abruptly she was gone. One day she was with us (in pain, but with us) and the next day she was just lost in hallucinations and then the next day, just not responsive and being held in this world by machines. It devolved rather quickly, and I’m angry I didn’t get more time to have a longer goodbye. I’m angry with her for not taking her life more seriously and instead, choosing to ignore all the signs and just “hope” it out of existence. I’m ashamed of myself for being mad at her. I’m just generally sad that there is a hole in my life now that can never be filled in. There is just one person who was so unique to me that I will never find another person like her; that no one can ever understand me like she did. I’m sad that she spent so much time alone in the hospital towards the end. I’m sad that my last memory of her was holding her close in my arms and, as she gasped her last breath, a single tear drop slowly ran down her cheek and then she was gone. I’m sad that this hole left in my life has also created a gap between my siblings and me because the glue that held us together is gone. I feel the distance between us in every moment, and while I know we love each other very much, I can feel that something had changed. It just hasn’t been the same.

I feel momless… a lacking that can’t be fully described as a unique emotion in myself, but rather as a complex mix of emotions, good and bad, that are both internal and shared. There is a present numbness that is like being mindful of feeling isolated. It’s like no matter how much someone could relate to what I’m going through or understand what I’m feeling, I know that no one could ever really relate to or understand how I’m feeling. This is unique to me and my relationship to my mom no longer being here. Not the idea of someone losing their mother, but MY mom. This numbing isolation is overwhelming and heavy but at the same time comforting. Sometimes, I can’t deal with the mix of emotions that I’m going through, and I just need to breathe. Other times, it’s nice to know how wonderful of a mother I had because of the huge hole I feel in her absence. My heart isn’t broken, but it does ache.

I’m posting this because I’ve realized how horribly wonderful and therapeutic this journey for the last 4 years has been. I wanted to share a concept that I have been struggling to come to grips with and understand in my grieving process. I wanted to share that sometimes our emotional state is not a single thing we’re feeling; that when we go through a major event in our lives, maybe we need a new emotion to express what we are going through. So, I wanted to share this feeling of momlessness, in the hope that if anyone reads this, and they might be struggling with identifying or understanding what they are going through, that they realize maybe their emotion is just something unique to them and they can make up their own emotion to understand and deal with it. Maybe someone else is feeling momlessness (in their own way) and they won’t feel so alone or weird about. In any case, I’m grateful for this new emotion because I now feel more connected to my own experience, I feel a little more complete. In the end, I think it’s what I hope for in navigating life, coming out the other end feeling connected and complete.