Wherein I lose my Treasure...

When I wrote to you all months ago that I was going to attempt to post more about my personal life, I had no idea that I would find myself compelled to share with you... this, the most deeply personal and painful thing to ever happen to me.

Ten days ago, my Mama passed away.

And almost as much as I feel the urge to call my sister, or my aunts (whom my mama affectionately referred to as "the treasures"), or my best friend, or my mama herself to find solace in this impossible time, I feel the urge to talk to you, dear readers. I know that my posts can be trite sometimes, really, I blog about stuff, things that no one can take with them in the end, but I feel that regardless, you've all been there for me these last several years. I have come to think of you all as my friends, my circle... my people.

The last month has been the hardest of my life. I feel that I have grown, grown too big, reached my limit, shattered, been pressed down, hardened and remade into another form that better fits the reality that I suddenly find myself in. I arrived in Nebraska 28 years old, wearing sneakers and a t-shirt with a dinosaur on it. I left, so very, very old.
For two weeks after I wrote to you all about leaving to look after my Mama in the hospital, I watched her fade away, withdraw and finally say goodby.

March 9th, our whole family was going to be in Nebraska to celebrate my mother's marriage to her Fiancé, Guy -the man she had waited her whole life for. Instead, she was admitted to the hospital and 9 days after the day she was to become a bride, my family instead came together to lay her to rest. She was only 57.

I find that my brain is incapable of understanding a world in which she is gone. Its seems to want to freeze, like an overburdened computer, when it's asked to process this information that is so counter-intuitive to everything else it knows. So I just give it simple tasks, one thing at a time. I do the dishes, I answer a few emails, I watch Glee in my sweatpants - things that don't ask too much of my poor mind. And then I try again.
I know that this is a process and I'm hoping that by attempting one task at a time that I understand, then someday I'll understand this too. I hope.

Thank you all so much for the warm wishes and prayers that you sent my way after my last post. And thank you for being here for me - you have no idea how dear each of you is to me.

--Anna