It’s been now one day short of two weeks and somehow it feels like it was yesterday. The news of her passing still rings untrue in my heart. Part of it might simply be for the fact I live so far away.
Everyone is back home in France and most of the time I am quite comfortable with my life being this way. However there are times when I wish I was a lot closer. Times when being on your own is harder than usual.
In times like this I miss the touch of the ones I left behind, in times like this I wish there was an easier way to be together. Remembering her in the middle of our house and telling the stories of her life would be a different experience surrounded by my siblings and our father.
By nature I tend to be the kind of person that retreats when in pain. I simply go within to lick my wound. This time the fact that I was so far from everyone gave a new dimension to my pain. I was very ambivalent about having anyone try to console me. The soothing presence of my friends coming to visit me to pay their respect after knowing about my mom’s passing gave me strength. To my surprise I realized that even if only a few of them ever got to know my mother, the sadness they expressed was real and helped me through the grief I felt.
I am now riding the waves of the mixed emotions that sometimes overwhelms me, trying to be at peace with it all. She lived a full life surrounded by every one and even if the last 10 years were quite difficult she was lucky enough to have spent them in the house that knew her, together with my dad. Her suffering has ended and it is a blessing.