still sad

I was nervous about the one year anniversary. I was nervous that i wouldn't honor my mom in the right way, that the day wouldn't bear the significance that i wanted it to. I guess i was also afraid of what an anniversary might mean. Maybe it would signify a close, an end to this experience, shutting the door on a whole new way of seeing my life. I knew that my obsession with April 1st was irrational but i couldn't convince myself that it was just a date like any other date. I mean, it wasn't irrational, it was emotional. I'm afraid of what 2 years later and 3 years later will mean. Will it get better? And if it gets better, what does that mean? Or is it like a spiral, going around and around every time. AprilMayJuneJulyAugustSeptemberOctoberNovemberDecemberJanuaryFebruaryMarchApril...
I'm afraid of forgetting. I've observed from my family members who have already been through this that they don't forget but i can't get that into my head. I'm afraid of what distance will feel like.

Today i went to the D'Agostino on Broadway and 110th, after work. I still hate that corner. I thought that as i waited for the bus. That corner has so much of my mom's presence, so many times, so much time spent within just a few blocks. Vitamin Shoppe, Rite Aid, West Side Market, D'Agostino, those four corners that mom went to so often.
I hate Broadway and 110th street. I almost always cry when i stand on the northeast corner, waiting for the bus.

Today at work was good. I was happy, talking about my trip and answering questions. I was fine. But going to lunch sucked because i missed my mom as i walked by myself to the market for food, and after work sucked as well. I realized that just as i guessed (and probably hoped) a year has not diminished my loss or the depth of my pain. I can go longer periods of time without crying or feeling utter pain, but the hole is always there. And when i take a moment to feel it, it's still gut wrenching. That punch in the stomach, it has not gone away.

Sometimes it feels worse and not better. But i don't want that anyway. People say it gets better with time. Some people have told me it feels different after a while, still sad but different. I believe that. I don't like to think of it as better. I will never feel better.

And on top of still having a moment of shock at the thought of my mother dying of cancer, i miss her in new ways all the time. So that feels worse. It's like there are more moments of missing her because it's been so long since i heard her voice.

I felt a lot of warmth and support in Bogota, but i felt so horrible coming back, knowing nobody would be waiting for me. Well, not nobody. That my mom wouldn't be home for me to call her and let her know i arrived or to welcome me home and help me with my bags.
I remember the time she met me at the airport when i came back from L.A. I was mad at her because she was late, and she told me she'd taken a long time to leave the apartment after i'd called her to let her know when i'd be there.

Being sad sucks because it hurts. I know it's normal but it feels not good. I don't want to stop thinking about or missing my mom, but i don't enjoy hurting. I've never felt such heartbreak.

Maybe you get used to it, maybe that's what people mean. I suppose i could get used to it but still miss my mom and feel sad about her.

I wish i could still call her from a store like the supermarket and ask her if she wants anything and tell her what i'm buying and tell her about my day.

new york to bogota

hey, i'm still 33 and this time i'm the one who went from new york to bogota.
I just realized that right now.
The trip was great and it felt like much more than 8 days. I was constantly surrounded by warmth and love and family and home. Bonding with people i don't know but with whom i just fit in perfectly. That was pretty remarkable.
Also remarkable was that it's possible to experience joy and mirth and really fucking intense pain at the same time. I was thrilled to visit churches on Holy Thursday/mom's anniversary and join in the tradition of faith of hundreds of people in the street. But it hurt so much that my mom was not there.
That was one of the themes for my trip: my mom was missing. Everything i did was a little less "blank" because my mom wasn't there.
And i cried at the beginning and the end of the trip, but in between i'd have these moments of realization where i felt like i got punched REALLY hard in the stomach and i'd always curse in my mind like, FUCK this really hurts. I'm constantly, continuously astounded by the amount of pain i feel and can tolerate.

My heart wrenched to see all of the new and exciting stuff in Bogota that my mom didn't get to see, but it was also somewhat comforting that i didn't have to relive too many memories painfully because there wasn't that much that i could remember from our trip there 19 years ago. In a way it's good when a place is new because it doesn't completely signify my mom. Although, like Dr. H. says, she will always be there, because she's always on my mind and in my heart.

I can't wait for fight club on Tuesday.
I cried myself to sleep last night. I feel a whole new wave of crying coming on for this month.

P.S. what the fuck is up with tearjerker movies on the airplane? 2 on the same flight? First "Everybody's Fine" which slayed me, again, followed by fucking "Hachi?" Are they kidding? I was so mad, but obviously really into the movies. yeah, crying on a plane has always been my dream.
Actually...i have had that dream.