I hope everyone has been well. It feels weird writing this. A bit out of sorts.
For years, my solace was writing words. Whether they were fictional or non fictional, it was how I expressed myself. But real life and circumstances kept me away for a bit.
For the last 20 years, my mother had been suffering from heart problems. First heart attack was a severe one. In fact, she didn’t know she even had it until we were in the hospital due to her second heart attack.
The second heart attack was so bad that it closed part of an artery and left a good part of her heart not working.
She was supposed to leave us then, but she wasn’t ready. She had plans. She retired and while she never got quite used to just resting on her laurels, she made the best of it.
That is until she couldn’t anymore. She passed away this past September due to congestive heart failure. She would have been 79 on September 23rd.
Her death was painless, but it doesn’t stop me from missing her any less.
Effie was my best friend, supporter and although I am glad she isn’t suffering any longer, I truly miss hearing her voice, the laughter and the snark.
To know my mother, Eflyn, was to love her. She had a huge personality.
Mom loved to read and when I published my first book 8 years ago, she was so thrilled that I thought she was going to buy all the printed copies when it was published.
She was a lover of all things shiny and pretty. If she were in her prime, she would have honestly had a you tube channel or an etsy store, full of all her knitting and crafts. My mom at one point, had made enough money from those crafts for vacations and other big ticket items we needed.
She had a self-deprecating sense of humor . She laughed at herself all the best and always told me that no one was better than another person. “We all leave and come in this world the same way Michele. Remember that. ”
When going through her things after she passed. I noticed that she had kept my first communication dress, assorted hair bows and ribbons. I imagine she did that with the hopes that I would have a little girl and she could wear some of it.
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.
She was kind and loved everyone, regardless of political or religious affiliation. Well… until you either hurt her kid(s) (that includes my half brother and sister), late mother or sister Gert that is.
I love how she, my late grandmother and aunts taught me to have a voice, think on my feet and be fearless and independent.
So many times, during this past summer as she was increasingly getting more ill, I tried to find the words to make myself feel better. I guess, they weren’t ready to come out then.
It’s only my aunt and I now. My aunt is the oldest and the only one left of her siblings left on this earth. I can’t even imagine what she is feeling now that all of her siblings and parents are gone. It’s something I think of daily and I want to make things for her as comfortable and as positive as I can.
They say grief comes in waves and while most days I am fine, there are other days and nights ( like last night) that I cry.
When I had a bad day at work or relationship troubles. She was there. Sure, I can still talk to her in a way, but it’ll never be the same.
I’ll eventually write again, weave stories, fix old stories or maybe just start anew. But, for now, because of the last few years of taking care of her, I need to remember, who I am .