Friday Feelings - Why is Year 2 Harder?

When Mother's Day hit in May, it seemed both my sister and I struggled with the loss of Mom more than we had the previous year...when it was our first Mother's Day without her. We both said we didn't understand why the second year was harder than the first.

Months have gone by - other celebrations...Dad's birthday. Memorial Day. Fourth of July. My birthday. And now we are at Halloween. And I am so, so sad.

Vacating storm clouds 10/30/25

 

I don't understand why. I didn't get to participate in the Halloween celebrations at work this year, but I didn't get to last year either. I did dress up last year but I'm just not feeling it this year. We got candy for the house and as usual I'll be the one handing it out. I've done it for years...last year because I'm the only one who could and years before it was just easier than mom having to move around to do it. So that's nothing new.

But it seems I am really having a problem with Halloween this year. It is making me so sad.

I'm seeing memories of past years when I did dress up - either for work or for the church's Trunk or Treat. And when I would pick up Chinese food for dinner because it was easy to grab before the Trick or Treaters started showing up at the house.  And it all makes me so sad. So sad that this year, the first time in so many years, I'm just making stuff at home for dinner for Dad and I because I don't want Chinese food.

I don't get it. Why is year 2 so much harder than year 1? And why am I sitting here trying to type this up through tears? I mean, it's only Halloween! Growing up Halloween was fun - but it wasn't like what you would think of as a family holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas. 

I wish I had the answer because I'd be telling myself what the answer is so I'd stop crying! 

The Last Time

 A year ago today was the last time I saw my mother alive.

It was Tuesday of Holy Week. I did what I normally did on a day I went to see Mom. I stopped working a bit early, then drove to the facility where she was, spent time with her, and then left. Our pastor was doing evening meditative services Monday through Wednesday, so after spending time with mom, I headed to the service. 

When I saw Mom, I knew things were not going well. Though she had been getting weak, I could at least get her to drink something while I was with her. And I wound up getting there when they served her dinner, so sometimes I could get her to eat a bite or two of what she was brought. Or, again, get her to drink the juice they would bring with her meal.

But Mom didn't want to drink. She didn't really want to see any photos from home that I would normally show her. She just laid there, asleep, not complaining about pain or anything else. So I stayed with her in silence for awhile, until I had to leave to get to the service I wanted to attend.

I knew the end was coming. And during the meditative service I found myself not only weeping knowing what we were coming closer and closer to in thinking about Jesus' life but also that my Mother's life was coming to an end.

But what I dwell on the most are the last words I said to her.

I always told her I loved her when I left and always gave her a kiss on her head. Which is what I did when she was home and I went to bed. But I also always said when I would see her again. For Mom, I usually saw her Tuesdays and Fridays. So I would go, "I love you Mom. I will see you on Friday!" or "I love you Mom. I will see you on Tuesday!" But this time - because it was Holy Week, I wasn't sure when I would get back up to see her.

So, instead I said, "I love you Mom. I'll see you soon."

I regret that a lot. I regret not being able to figure out when I would be able to see her again so I could tell her that. I regret not saying more. Maybe because now I know that was going to be the last time I saw her alive I wish I had said more.

I wish I had thought to thank her for being such a great mother, despite the times we had our differences.

I wish I had thought to thank her for only thinking it a little crazy traveling places to see large organs and famous organists.

I wish I had thought to thank her for pushing me to do the things I wanted to do and for doing what she could to help give me time to finish assignments or have meetings even if it meant I wasn't home or locked myself in my room, much to the chagrin of Sparkle who would bark and cry at my closed door.

I wish I had thought to thank her for encouraging me to take over cooking the large meals at holidays, including making her famous mustard pineapple sauce. And for having me learn to make her Toll House Cookies.

I wish I had thought to thank her for a lot of things and not waited until it was too late.