Waking up is never usually a pleasant thing, at least for those of you who are like me and aren't a morning person or even an 11am person. You're groggy, tired and all you want to do is lay your head back down on your big fluffy pillow and curl back up, no matter how many hours of sleep you got.
Today, waking up was worse than that. Today, it wasn't my alarm clock that woke me up or a storm.
Today, I woke up from the same jolt of the same lightening bolt that hit me for the first time on November 2, 2006.
I was dreaming about my mom. My mom was sleeping on her bed and I was just standing there waiting for her to wake up (my mom would often sleep for days at a time when she was coming off meth). I was so angry with her because I couldn't understand how she was sleeping through everything, I just wanted her to wake up and spend time with me and my little brother.
When my mom finally did wake up after what felt like weeks in my dream, I went over to her bed and laid with her. I could feel her. I remember seeing her smile that lit up the room. And as I was laying next to her, I knew this moment wasn't going to last. I knew we had a very short time together. I held her tight and cried on her chest that I wish she wouldn't go. Then I beckoned my brother over and told him to tell mommy really good things for her to remember.
It was at this point I woke up. All the feelings I had of that initial shock of her dying rushed over my body with a great amount of force and speed. Before I could even open my eyes to realize I was now awake, the tears started pouring out. I felt like I had lost her..again.
I'll never understand why I lost my mom when I was 16. I can't imagine God needed her more than I did, more than I still do. You do your best to manage after you lose a mom. To find a new normal of life. You go on, doing everyday things which feel nearly impossible to do at first. Then one day, you realize.. you're doing okay and the day-to-day things aren't so hard anymore. And you feel a sense of hope.
But before you know it, you get hit by a freight train of the loss, the grief, the anger, the denial and suddenly, a task that you do everyday, like waking up, sends you flying back to the beginning.
And the worse part about all of this, is after I move on from what happened today and start to feel normalcy again, that same damn freight train is going to come back around.
Today is going to be a hard day. It's going to be hard a few weeks. November 2, 2012 will be six years since my mom has died. But while that train may come around more often during this time, I've gotta keep walking with my head held high or I'll never make it out alive.
