Yesterday, I thought this episode had ended. I felt well, I accomplished a lot, and my sense of humor had returned. But, today was as dreadful as it gets.
As some of you know, my mother died at the end of October. And this morning when I awakened, I started sobbing because I missed her so terribly, and I was sad and tearful all day long. I was grateful that my son is away at college, so that I could shed my tears with abandon.
Today I felt like I was crying for a lifetime of depressions...for the first one when I was 18, for this one--almost 40 years later--and every single one in between. I didn't ruminate about prior episodes, but I felt entitled to cry for so many reasons: for trying so hard to achieve wellness and failing, for trying so hard to remain positive despite abundant suffering, for causing so much pain to those I love, for being judged and found lacking by those I used to love, for persevering when it would have understandable to have quit, and because I miss my mother, who was my anchor throughout my life. In the depth of my sorrow, I wrote the following poem.
Mama, Can You Hear Me?I am 57 years old
and the mother of a teenage son.
And this morning when I awakened,
I started sobbing because my mother is dead.
I suddenly realized
that for the rest of my life,
no one will answer me
when I say the word "mama" aloud.
No one will look at me and see
the laughing happy child of years ago.
No one will think I'm perfect
despite my recognizable flaws.
No one will hold me the way
that only a mother can,
And promise me I'll be okay
because to her I am invincible.
"Mama, I love you deary," I weep.
"Mama, I miss you deeply," I whimper.
"Mama, I still need you," I whisper.
"Mama, can you hear me?" I wail.
"Maaaaamaaaaa," I bawl,
like a small child who is lost in a crowd.
"Maaaaamaaaaa," I bellow,
praying that my voice will reach her in heaven.