Guilt, Loss, Love

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**MrsMuffinTop preface:  This will be my last post on the death of my mom.  This specific topic has bothered me for a while and I needed to see if anyone else out there could relate.  After this, I will go back to my usual nonsensical humorous topics*

 

If you are a regular reader of my posts, you know that my mom passed away less than two weeks before my youngest was born.  You also know that I had a very complicated relationship with my mother.  If you know me personally, you probably don’t know the details of my imbalance with her, since those aren’t particulars in which I readily divulge (unless you actually read my blog!).  A few friends do know, and something that happened recently sparked an intense emotional reaction in me.

Two friends of mine acted as if my mother’s passing wasn’t as big of a deal to me, as it is to others, since I hadn’t fully worked out my issues with her.  To be more specific, a comment had been made about a mutual friend of ours who recently lost her mom, and how “horrible and tragic” it has to be for her, since they were so close.  They even mentioned how beautiful her Facebook tribute to her mom was, without batting an eye at my own very recent loss, only three months prior to our acquaintance’s.

I wondered for a week or so, why I had that stomach churning reaction.  What was it about their words (and lack of them, too) that made my head spin and heart pound, and my neck hair stand on edge?

I can only say that my conclusion is still open-ended, but I’ve found some comfort in knowing that my loss isn’t any lower on a pain-richter scale than anyone else’s, but perhaps it’s heightened.  For the last nine months of her life, we both put aside most of our issues and we were united as a family,  but there was over a year that was lost; resolutions and forgiveness now irretrievable.  To me, there is no pain that is equal to knowing that in my heart, I never fully made peace with her.

My mom and me, when I was two days old.

My mom and me, when I was two days old.

This thought of unresolved issues made me recall a memory of my mother crying after her mother, my grandmother, passed.  I was seventeen.  “Why are you even crying, you said she abused you and you weren’t even sure if you liked her?!”  Her response, “Oh, MissMuffinTop, she was still my mother.”  My grossly insensitive statement can be passed off by noting that I was only a teenager, still a sprout in life experiences.  What can my 30-something friends use as their excuse?

I have yet to find a way to approach my friends about my feelings.  I am not upset with them, but I am confused about the lack of compassion.  I have learned a very important lesson from my mom’s death, and I’m not taking it lightly.  I refuse to leave any issue pending.  I can’t have guilt occupying any more of my head space, should anything ever happen (555). Have any of you ever experienced something like this?  How did you resolve it?

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