Sad

I am so sad sometimes.  I miss Mama so much I can't stand it. She drove me crazy when she was alive, yet the void that is left is huge.  She would love this baby so much.  So very much...words cannot even begin to express how much. 


It is juvenile and irrational, but I can't get over how unfair it is.  She had such a good heart. She was a kind person.  No matter how incredibly annoyed I was by her, I always, always knew that she was coming from a place of love, though the actual implementation of her good intentions often resulted in frustration on my part. The fact that she is dead, that BOTH my parents are dead, when so many shitty and cruel and evil people still walk this earth- these days I almost can't bear it, I want to scream and rage and break things. 


She was such a good mom to small kids.  Things got thornier once adolescence came knocking, but my childhood was wonderful.  I felt loved and safe. 


My father's crash was when I was 14.  Under the most optimal circumstances, 14 is a humdinger.  I look around at the 14 year olds I know- I think of them having their father taken from them, in a coma, in limbo.  Neither alive nor dead. 


I think of them being in charge. Paying the rent. Packing the lunches. Talking to the doctors. Asking all the questions.  And I shake my head- they are just babies!  You can't allow them to take on such weighty, adult responsibilities. 


But she did. 


Undone by the reality of life as she knew it crumbling just like that, my mother gave herself over to grief and let me take over.  There was a vacuum, and I filled it. There was no one else.  We were never able to unring that bell.  I became an adult far too early.  She remained a child far too long.  Our mixed up, upside down roles were a constant source of frustration for both of us.  I resented her dependency, yet any attempts on her part to be 'motherly' I greeted with contempt.  It's far too late for THAT, I would huff to myself. 


The baby would have been a clean slate.  New leading roles for both of us; mother and grandmother. A chance to relate to each other in a new way, untainted by the past. 


Mama died February 23rd, 2009.  Bunting was conceived in March.  I can't decide if the timing is the cruelest of jokes or the greatest of blessings.