Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Body Surfing

I chose the title Body Surfing for this blog entry because it recalls a few significant things. First, it is a novel by Anita Shreve, a writer my mother and I both enjoy. Second, it relates to my recurring dreams about waves and succumbing to their tremendous, dangerous force. Third, I feel I am surfing a tumultuous sea of emotions as I continue to deal with the death of my mother.

I could easily resent my mother for not having taken care of herself, for taking on too much of a burden by solely caring for a disabled child, or for exchanging her teacher pension as start-up capital for a small business. I won't, though. I want to stay positive in my remembrance of her. I cherish her intelligence, dry wit, generosity to strangers, and incredible work ethic. The problem is that I'm still just so sad without her.

I know I should accept others' promises that my mom is still here, just not in the physical sense. My lack of religion prevents me from believing this. I want her nearby, to hug, to share her smile, to help her brush her hair after her stroke left her weak. I wanted to make her a Nana, to rid her of small business debt, to help her more with my sick brother, and to make her proud by finally becoming a teacher (she was a fabulous teacher for 20 years).

Instead, the heavy waters of loss continue to crush me. At times, my sadness manifests itself in the form of anxiety, and I surf aimlessly without being able to concentrate on a destination. I valued her advice more than anyone else's advice, and that is why I feel so directionless. At least I have a reserve of wonderful memories to give me strength. I need it now more than ever.