Faith has told me for years that she thinks it’s sad that I’ve been here for her whole life, but she hasn’t been here for mine. It’s such a sweet sentiment. Lately, I have thought so much about it.
Losing my dad was so hard and it was at the same time as so many huge life changes. The most transformational of which was Faith’s illness. If there was one thing my dad was proud of about me it was that I, was tough. So many times, I would sit in that damn hospital room and repeat repeatedly in my head that I was Roger Bell’s daughter, pull it together. And I would. I know, who I am today is a direct result of the decision to stay strong when everything around me, the most important things, were being threatened to be taken away from me. It puts regular everyday challenges and disappointments into perspective.
There is something that happens when you lose both of your parents. You end up in this strange place of feeling untethered. They are your first and earliest comfort. Even as adults they provide you with that feeling of safety, that can’t be replaced by anyone, because only your parents have been connected to you since birth, only your parents love you more than they love themselves.
It’s been two years today, since I sat holding my mom’s hand to tell her she wasn’t going to get better. I was alone with her. Well, Scott was there, he was sleeping on the couch, and she was making sure he wasn’t leaving me there alone….I think she asked every 30 minutes if he was still there. She was so unbelievably lucid, for the last hours of her life. She wasn’t panicked. She didn’t even seem scared. It is so hard to find the words to say goodbye to your forever best friend. I thanked her for standing in as mom for me with Will, while Faith & I lived in the hospital. She knew what a loss that was for me, and she aways showed up with grace, so I didn’t feel like I was failing him. I thanked her for loving Faith, the same way she had loved me, because Barb knew how to raise strong independent women. Then I told her how much I loved her, & that I was sorry I had been so angry all the time towards her, because she was the only person I could really be who I really was around. And I was so angry. I just didn’t understand why Faith?? And she was the only person, the only one I could show that anger to that wouldn’t think less of me. That wouldn’t think it broke me, that wouldn’t think I wasn’t strong enough. And for some reason, admitting you can’t handle it made me think I wouldn’t get to. I promised her I would take care of them. She just kept squeezing my hand. Then she said, what I think were the last words she said to me…..”and you.” I promised.
When you live your life for years, with your focus taking care of everyone but yourself, that is a difficult promise to keep. For the first 6 months after she died, I cried every day. As a hardly ever crier, that felt like taking care of myself. Then I started Pilates…which used to make me feel happy because we ended every class with a butterfly which made me feel connected to her. Slowly, I began making changes. Which includes so many selfies, since I have decided my children will someday have ALL the pictures of me something I was sad to not have of mom. I have made a conscious effort to connect with people, who in the past I’ve not made time for. I have a job with people I adore and have made intentional decisions to stay where I love the people over shinier, more profitable positions. I’ve become closer with Regina, who feels the most like home to me. I have new friendships, that have challenged my way of thinking & my need to apologize for how I feel.
I am keeping my promise. I feel so sad that I can’t let my mom know this part of me. There are so many things I want her to know, that I want to tell her. I understand Faith’s sentiment now. It’s really sad that mom doesn’t get to see this part of my life. I took this week off work, because it’s such a hard time for me. I have been unable to figure out what it is I want to do. Maybe sleep through tomorrow. I’m the only in my little inner circle that is in this space. I am so glad for that. I know having the parents I did, was a privilege. To feel this heavy, is to love this much.
If you are in a space to spend time with your parents, celebrate that. Tell them all the things. Take the pictures. Make the promises.
myfaithsjourney 