I'm looking back at pictures that span my lifetime and beyond. Most of them I've seen before. I know the stories. Who was there, what the occasion was, what happened either just before or immediately after. Because 'back in my day' picture opportunities were chosen wisely and only if your camera was near, and loaded with film.
This time, though, is different. I know the stories, but now I want to know what her experience was. This time I'm searching. I pour over every detail of her face. Who was she looking at? What was she feeling? How did I not see the way she looked at me while I was fully engaged in something else? This time, I'm looking at pictures of my mom in a world where she no longer exists.
As I write this, I sit at a table I've sat at countless times in my life, sitting with her, talking with her, maybe arguing with her. And I'm looking at a small photo of her in a frame with wings that my sister gave me as an early Christmas present. Her ashes sit with me at this table now.
I want to know her experience in those photos because I'd only recently (a year or so) been able to feel like I really could see her for the whole human she was, rather than only who she was to me. A mother is so ubiquitous to your life experience, but as a young person, you nearly always see those experiences from your own perspective. Gaining the insight to see past myself, gave me a new lease on who she was. And while I only got a year to explore that with her, I'll be forever grateful for that time and our conversations.
To attempt to describe what the last few weeks has been like would be a futile endeavor. Writers far more accomplished than I would falter, I wager. After all, how can one put into words what it feels like to lose your first and truest tether to this earthly realm? How can you describe the first moments in a strange new world without the one who brought you here?
I'd always heard that to lose a parent was to join a club. One you never wanted to be a part of. One that you definitely couldn't understand until you absolutely understood. A club with dues so costly, you only join by force.
BUT. In this new season of life, I find a deep comfort being in the presence of my fellow club members. They know nothing they can say will bring relief. Rather, they identify themselves with the groups secret code. I'll share it because you can't fake it...we'll know. They'll pull up a chair or throw an arm around you, heave a heavy sigh and utter the club's secret code, "It never gets easier, but you learn to live with it."
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