a year has passed

I haven’t updated in awhile. And this isn’t really an update this time. This is more about remembering the significance of today.

A year ago today my mother-in-law, Cathy, passed away. In some ways I can hardly believe that it has already been a year. What's a year? 12 months, 52 weeks, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes, 31,536,000 seconds. One trip around the sun.

Some days the pain of her death is so fresh, that it is like it just happened. Sometimes I catch myself referring to her in the present tense, even though I have had a year to adjust to her absence. And other times it is like she has been gone for a really long time - like when I sit and try to remember her laugh or smile or just the tone of her voice. Sometimes I can’t recall those small details and in the course of just a year, you shouldn’t forget those things. Sometimes it seems so hard to hold onto the details of her. And I feel like I need to hang onto the details, like I owe it to her and Matthew to keep her memory alive. My heart aches for the pain I know Brian is in because he misses her and he feels that he left too much unsaid. My heart breaks for Matthew and the fact that he didn’t get a chance to know his Grandma Cathy. Sometimes I am angry that choices she made cheated Brian out of more time with her, cheated Matthew out of getting a chance to know her, cheated herself out of the opportunities to spend time with people who loved her so much. I am angry with myself for being angry with her, when she isn’t here any longer. The anger is short lived and the moments are few. Most of the time I am just sad that she isn’t here.

And I can’t believe all the things she has missed out on with Matthew in the course of a single year, just 12 short months – first Christmas, first steps, first birthday, first words, first haircut, dancing, really communicating. He is really becoming quite an amazing little person. He has such personality. He teases, plays, jokes. I really wish Cathy could be here to see it all. She would be in complete awe of her grandson. She would proudly hang his latest masterpiece on her wall. She would anxiously await new pictures. She would enjoy trying to convince him to talk to her on the telephone. And she would treasure every minute she could spend with him.

As this anniversary of her death approached, I read back over the memorial blog I wrote to her at the end of last year and I realize that it still hurts just as much when I think of all that we lost when she died. But I also am able to smile as I recall happy memories of her. I know that as time passes, the hurt won't be as acute and sharp. It will still be there, but the joy of having known her will overshadow the loss. I know you are up there Cathy looking down on us occassionally. We love you and miss you. We are glad that your pain is no more. And we have faith that we will be reunited with you one day.

We miss you so very much. You are not forgotten and you are deeply loved.