On Sunday, July 3, 2022, my mom died. It was perhaps one of the worst days of my life.
This is a post simply acknowledging that she has passed, and nothing I do can or will bring her back.
There isn’t any profound meaning I have found. Yet, at least. Perhaps ever? I still feel the same rage, depression, anxiety, loss, loneliness, and for some weird reason joy because who the hell knows why.
There’s just a lot of pain. And paperwork.
So much paperwork.
I want to document this time period by taking pictures of the house—my mom’s house—we are slowly taking apart in preparation for the next step of our lives. You know, the part of our lives without my mom. The nightgowns she used to wear. The bowls she used to eat out of before she stopped eating. The bottles of Ensure before she stopped drinking anything to nourish her body.
It took weeks to even feel like “myself” again—whatever that means. My sense of humor is now gallows humor. Maybe it’s the seasons I’ve watched of The Vampire Diaries that has helped. Highly recommend in deep grief. Apparently, I really needed to watch a television show about (hot) vampires, death, grief, and more (hot) vampires, even more death, and even more grief to feel even somewhat okay about my situation.
Talking to family and friends has helped. But in some weird way, I haven’t even told some friends about her passing. Sometimes, I just don’t want to acknowledge it.
I’m trying and failing to capture the horrifying essence of what it was like to lose my mom. And yet that makes it sound passive. As if we misread a map and wound up in a small town far from where we intended. She’s lost.
No.
Death took my mom.
And now she’s gone.
I don’t want to admit this. I don’t want to share that my mom has passed away. That she is no longer here. That everyday when I wake up it’s another reminder—another damn day—that my mom won’t grace the earth with her presence.
Here’s what I sent to a friend, when I was somewhat ready to face my feelings:
The honest truth is, my mom is gone and she’s not coming back. I’m going to have to live the rest of my life and she’s not going to be in any of it. It’s horrible and I hate it.
This grief is so much worse than what I experienced with my grandparents or anything else. It’s painful and awful and the best part of my day is either being asleep or tuning out while watching The Vampire Diaries, instead of acknowledging every moment I’m awake that she’s dead. My sister and I have to pack up the house she used to live in, the closet with all of her clothes, the whole thing in a month and a half…Every day is just another chance to feel excruciating pain. That’show I’m feeling.
On a last note, it’s weird how death changes you in tiny details. I never used to mind sunflowers. I thought it was adorable how they followed the sun. But fun fact, according to Sarcoma Alliance, “Sunflowers are a symbol used by sarcoma communities around the globe to remind those affected that there is hope for a brighter future.” My mom died of sarcoma. She had a sunflower dress she used to wear and everything. Back when there was hope in her treatment. In the end she didn’t want to see sunflowers anymore.
So I didn’t, either.
As another fun fact that I found out just now, July is Sarcoma Awareness Month.
How fitting.
On that note, it’s almost time for my current favorite part of the day: sleep. After another episode of The Vampire Diaries, of course. I’m on season six!
Sleep well, all.
With love,
Madeline
Madeline Wahl is a writer, solo traveler, and millennial caregiver to her mom, who recently passed from terminal cancer. Her writing has appeared on Reader's Digest, HuffPost, Red Magazine, and McSweeney's, among others. She is working on her first novel.
Thank you for open and honest, and for putting your heart on display. YOU ARE AMAZING, and now we know where you got it from. Your writing is beautiful and since we know that it came from your heart we know why. Madeline not only are you going to honor your mother's memory. You are to do great things. Please keep writing about this, I pray healing for you and peace in the midst of challenging times. IJN All my love to you during this time.
Sending you so much love, Madeline. Thank you for sharing sharing your experiences so honestly throughout each volume of this newsletter.
I am always here to chat about tv shows and obsessions with them. It's only my favourite thing to talk about, ever.
Keeping you and your sister in my prayers and wishing you both all of the time and space you need to grieve as you need to.
Lots of love,
xx