I would if I could

Some days it's just not enough to know that everything is the way it's supposed to be. I know that in my mother's last months, she was in a lot of pain and not in any condition that she wanted to be in. And I also know, without a doubt, that she left on her own terms. Because all else was taken from her - strength, health, etc. - she had to have the last say, somehow. In many ways, I am grateful that she decided when she was ready to let go. And when she did . . . I know she went peacefully. But seriously, there are just some days when that just isn't good enough for me. It doesn't bring me a sense of peace. I know her passing is not about me, it's not about her family or friends and the work she left behind. There are some days, though, when it feels too lonely without her here. 

As an adult in the stages of preparing to begin a life with another individual, there are days when I wish she were here to talk to and hear her opinion and thoughts. By her dying, the opportunity for our relationship to come full circle, whether it was meant to or not, was taken. I was robbed. I want to believe that at some point, my mother and I would have come to some sort of middle ground. A place of understanding for each other. A place where we could interact as adults and not just mother and daughter. A place where she could see me as her daughter about to get married, hopefully have children and be with me along the way. To be with me to provide her experience, her wisdom. As things have changed for me in this past year, what is abundantly clear to me is that I wade through this without her. That I go through the highs and lows, the good and bad and everything else in between without her.

I don't deny that there are women in my life who would gladly provide their pearls of wisdom and past experiences to help me along the way. But, to that, I have to admit, I tend to have no interest. I try to remain steadfast with an open mind, but that tends to prove harder than I think. It's just not the same. It's not my mother. I know that it would only be to my benefit to reach out and have an open  mind, but there's always the obvious - whoever that woman may be that I reach out to or seek comfort or knowledge from is not who I really want. I recognize that isn't fair to others and I struggle to resolve that problem. I know this is my obstacle. I want to think that as the pain and sadness lessens, my willingness to be open to others will blossom, if not completely, then just enough so that I may continue to learn from those who have come before.