Today I have decided to begin a journal so that I can write my thoughts in the hope that they will bring peace to my mind, in that the good fortune in tomorrow returns, that the need to hope prevail and that once again my curiosity paramount. These are the traits that will heal my heart. Each day I feel detached and floating. There hasn’t been many hours since Momma died that I find I am able to be kind to myself because I feel so upset about my Mother’s final hours with us. I miss her terribly. Martin misses her also. The house rattles in the quietude, where once it was busy with activity and the noise produced by the ventilator and oxygen concentrator. All that wonderful equipment noise, the actual equipment and my Momma have left, as well as, a lot of me. I know if I want to continue I need to lay to rest this anguish.
Putting a feeling to rest isn’t so easy for me, unless I understand it more fully. If I examine my feelings I am not sure if I will ever come to the end and feel solace.
The way that I feel, my reaction to her passing, the sorrow I hold in my heart were all programmed so long ago that I don’t know if I will ever discover the triggers.
We will see, possibly Momma will help. I am still convinced Momma will come to speak to me one day soon.