Today marks the 13th year that my mother died of cancer and I don’t know how I feel.
Usually, I know exactly what’s going through my mind and heart when another year rolls around. Sometimes I feel anger, sometimes grief, sometimes happiness of the memories and sometimes just lost. But this year, I feel challenged, both good and bad.
See, I know she would want me to be doing better and it just occurred to me within the last week or so that I want to do better. I say how creative and smart I am, but I’ve never made myself push the limits on either my creativity or intelligence. Sometimes, it’s fear of not being understood and sometimes it’s plain orneryness. But I realized lately that this life of mine isn’t about anyone else but me. I am the director, actor and audience at all times. Sometimes, I just lose my way.
That’s it… today I feel as if I’ve lost my way. I lost the drive to push boundaries, to be daring, to find new thrills and reignite some old ones. I just stopped caring about a lot of things and in doing so, I’ve allowed a slight numbness to settle on me.
Which brings me back to what today is. My mom, Vivacious Val, enjoyed her life. I remember being a kid and all the things she and her friends would do, telling myself that when I grow up, I’m going to have dinner parties, go on group vacations, throw cool Halloween and New Year’s Eve parties (both where people get dressed up for the occasion). In all my adult years, I’ve done none of these things. My sense of adventure, instilled in me by my mother, is laying dormant.
While I will take my time to grieve my loss today, I will also take time to remember all the things I promised myself I would do when I grew up and start doing them. When it’s my time to go, I want to look back and not have any regrets.
Thank you, Mommy, for giving me flair, for your aliveness, for your talents and for all the times when you told me that I was bigger than what I saw when I couldn’t see it. I love you and I miss you. This life’s for us.