7.27

A week ago tonight, my mother left us.

It's hard to talk about and even harder to write. Despite knowing that it would happen, nothing can quite prepare you for the incredible sense of disorientation that occurs when a hole of epic proportions is ripped into your heart.

I am not quite sure what to do now, but that doesn't make me lost. Bearing witness to the entire process of my mother's illness and death has given me a new perspective, but I suspect it will take time to filter out the bitter and painful parts to render it useful.

Poring over cookbooks over the phone, discussing recipes.
Sitting in the kitchen, drinking wine and laughing.
The goofy opera singing in the car.
Knowing that I always had a shoulder to cry on or my biggest cheerleader.

I miss these things, I miss everything. I miss the way life used to be. I miss her.

7.20

In times of hardship, we always discover who our real friends and family are.

It isn't always pleasant, but it sure is an eye-opener.

I'm learning that distance has nothing to do with friendship, and family is just a legal definition.

It's pretty disappointing, but i'd rather know than be misled.

Limbo

At times like this, I envy those who place their faith into organized religion and swallow the lie like hungry dogs. I envy their resolve, their steadfast belief that something bigger than they are is looking out for them and giving a shit about what they are dealing with. I envy the conviction with which they reinforce their notion of an afterlife and the possibility of reuniting with others post mortem. I envy them because I know that it would be so much simpler to believe the lie, to be comforted by the words they live by.

I usually have little more than disdain regarding religion, but today... today I wonder if it isn't so bad to be gullible.