I'm grieving...it's a process

Well here we are again in the middle of the night - seeking sleep but not finding it. I did manage to get a bit of sleep last night...mostly because I took a hefty dose of Xanax. I try to stay at about .25 - .50 mg but it has only been helping me sleep about 4 hours a night and I'm always afraid to take more at 4 in the morning because I don't really want to sleep all day. Last night I doubled the dose and took a whole mg. I slept almost all night. I'm still exhausted and I look like hell with dark circles and the whole bit. I guess considering that before last night I slept a maximum of 4 hours, I feel pretty good.

I've said this before, but it bears repeating. When I was about three years old, I was in Spurgeon's department store with my mother and we got separated. Being three, I was sure that I was never going to see my mother again and I was in a state of panic until a nice lady took me to the customer service desk where they paged overhead for "Lucinda's mother to please come to the service desk." That is the same feeling I've had for the past four days. This panicky, little kid-like fear never leaves me. This time, though, there is no service desk to page her.

There is a line that has been running through my head all day. It is from the Edna St. Vincent Millay poem that I posted on the blog a couple of months ago to commemorate the anniversary of Matt's death. "More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world."

Tonight we taught my dad how to play Mike's Grandpa's dicey game.

Today Chaplain Randy from the hospital where my mom works stopped out to see us. He's so wonderful - I've always really liked him but saying nice things about my mom always earns extra brownie points. He brought us this really pretty wooden keepsake box and a book with poetry, pictures and advice on how to work your way through the grieving process. In the book was this poem by Robert Browning which I really like:

I walked a mile with Pleasure;

She chattered all the way.

But left me none the wiser

For all she had to say.

I walked a mile with Sorrow

And ne'er a word said she;

But, oh the things I learned from her

When Sorrow walked with me.

The cards started coming in today. We got some from friends, one from her doctor's office and one from her former insurance agent. That's the beauty of small, closely-knit communities, I guess. Everybody remembers you.

We met with the lady who will be conducting Mom's memorial service. She wanted to speak with us and "get to know" Mom a little bit. She asked me why she was a good Mom. What made her a good Mom? I couldn't answer. How do you sum up something so large into a few words? She was my everything. She loved me more than anyone in this world will EVER love me. She gave me life and until last Friday I had never known a world without her. I told the reverend that I will think about it and try to put it into words. I started to write down things I remember about my mom into a small notebook that I'm carrying around with me. I was doing alright and then writing "I always had to save the pecans in the mixed nut container for her. She told me that her mom always got the pecans when she was growing up, she will get all the pecans while I am growing up and then when I have kids I can make them give me the pecans" made me cry.

I went and visited my brother's memorial marker today. I was feeling low and very alone. I can't say I miraculously felt better or anything but I did manage to remind myself that Matt was there to meet her when she died and he's probably got the best spots scoped out for her already.

My mom had a saying taped to the front of her locker at work and I've decided to adopt it as my personal mantra. Whenever I get down and feel sorry for myself, I'll say, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

Yesterday I went down to the hospital where my mom works to clean out her locker and talk with everybody. I saw tons of people and it took me all day to get done and out of the building. When I expressed how much I'll miss seeing my mom to her friend and co-worker, Sandy (who has worked with her forEVER), she touched my face and said, "Whenever you miss your mom's face, look in the mirror and there it is."

Tomorrow Mike and I are going to have lunch with my mom's long-time best friend, a woman she always referred to as "Marvelous Martha" Schumacher. I'm rather looking forward to it.

I know this is sort of a spastic post - all over the place...but that's how my thought processes are working right now. Wanna fight about it? Didn't think so.

I'm going to try and sleep now - wish me luck.