Six months

My mother died on this date six months ago. With the Haitian catastrophe occurring this week, my own grief is triggered.

In addition, as January 15th arrived last night, I sat with one of my children in a hospital emergency department. Her unknown allergic reaction necessitated this visit.

As I sat there, I could feel myself becoming more agitated with each passing minute. As the clock struck midnight I realized where I was six months earlier, sleeping in the hospital where my mother died later that day.

In life, triggers of memories and emotions, both happy and sad, are a reality, and there is no escape. Being aware of what is happening helps me to cope with flashbacks.

Instead of fighting the feelings, I can acknowledge them. If the time is inconvenient to show them, I can now 'refuse delivery' and save their expression for a later time. That tells me that I am healing.

In some ways, it has been a very long six months without my mother. In another way, it seems like yesterday that we were talking and laughing together.

The sympathy cards are still there, on the desk. I did take a look at them the other day. That is progress.

My journey continues . . . .