Next week, November 2nd, it will be twelve years since my mom died. Twelve years.
Four and a half years ago, I had Will.
Tonight, I watched Parenthood. Christina went in for her cancer surgery and they had a scene where her husband and family were in the waiting room while she was in surgery. They showed doctors coming in and telling other families the results of their loved ones surgery. I’m losing it. I feel like someone just punched me. Everything came back. That disgusting, dark, old waiting room that looked like a rundown library. The hallway where families got called one at a time to speak to their doctor after the surgery. That same hallway where they told us to get her affairs in order. The recovery room where we got to go and see my mom one at a time. I remember all of it. Pacing out in front of the hospital with my ex, wondering how the hell I was going to tell this to my grandmother and thinking it couldn’t be true. Throwing up in a rock garden outside the hospital.
I remember all of it. The smells, the sights, the sounds. I remember every thing about that day and those nine months that followed.
Yet I can’t remember Will’s life from say eight months to two years. I remember the hospital and coming home. I remember the first six weeks and the few months of hell after. After that? Nothing. It’s like he came to me at two and a half. I’m so happy that I took so many pictures and videos because they trigger memories of certain times and places but there is no continuity. Why?
What makes your brain vividly remember things that you’d rather forget but times that you’re straining to remember, it won’t let you go there. Seriously – I don’t get it.
The brain is amazing thing. Unless it’s got a tumour. Or won’t let you forget. Or let you remember. Actually, tonight? The brain can kiss my ass.
**First haircut? I don’t remember…but when I see the picture…it all comes back.**
OMG…the nurse in recovery who couldn’t figure out why we all cried when we went into see her…the nurse in ICU who wanted to look at her dressing and lifted her shirt. Moving her out of ICU and wanting her to walk…the resident who would’nt give her a sleeping pill because it might affect her neuro status that noone but me was checking…the day of discharge and the nurse coming in and saying..so glad you get to go home…not even knowing what her diagnosis was…I too remember all of the nine months…
{{hugs}}
I stopped watching Parenthood about 3 or 4 weeks ago.
I think I was just too fragile after Scott died to get lost in that much emotion (thru a tv show).
I remember everything about the past 11 years (between Cuy and Eva’s issues) but it doesn’t feel like I lived it.
I hate it when things take me back to bad days. Messy emotions that I don’t want to deal with again.
But I vividly remember many, many joyful things.
Our awesome wedding (so awesome).
Cam’s birth (I became a MOM!).
Cuy’s first word (that we were afraid we’d never hear).
Eva’s birth (omg a girl!)
It’s amazing what a mind can block out, and yet remember other things with such clarity – smells, touch, etc… it truly is the weirdest thing.
I think lots of people have a brain-blur when it comes to the day-to-day of children. (Not everyone, but I’m sure you’re not in the minority.) Sometimes the experience is just… traumatic for many reasons. Sometimes it’s just because you’re living “Groundhog Day” for the first 2 years. Thank god for pictures, indeed.
Sorry for your rough night though, sistah. xox
I know it too. Mom – stage-3 lymph and breast. The dead feeling for family – don’t know the day or time or anything. I’m lucky, mom beat it 7yrs ago and again last year with lung and lymph. I remember almost nothing about the illness, but lots about the recovery. Same as you with Will. You remember the NOW. Treasure it. J
No idea….*HUGS* to you…