Every time I have proofed something for my blog over the last several weeks, that’s what I hear when I read through it: “Yadda, yadda, buh buh buh. Nothing, nothing…nothing really here.” This is some of the most frustrated I have ever felt in my life, and my uncharacteristic reactions have really surprised me–like the disappearance of verve and my voice in my writing. In the past when I was upset, I could write with energy and focus, but this glitch is something brand-new.
My Mother died at the end of this summer. Her death wasn’t unexpected, for Heaven’s sake: she’d already conquered colon cancer in 2001 before being diagnosed with breast cancer about five years ago, in 2006. Still, all of the clichéd maxims about death and dying and love and loss continue to ring true: “No matter how much you think you’re prepared for a loved one’s death, you’re not.” I think the problem is in the word think here anyway.
Coming to terms with Mother’s death hasn’t had much to do with thinking. It’s had everything to do with feeling. I feel sad and miss her terribly, and no matter what I try to write, I feel like I start reading it back to myself to listen for content and clarity, and all I’m writing is “Yadda, yadda, buh buh buh.” As long as I’ve been distracted by activity, I think I’ve coped pretty well. I haven’t been depressed, and I was sitting alone with her when she died. Let me assure you: watching someone leave this world is surreal, but I think I’ve been busy with pleasing, productive activities, and I’ve done pretty well. Now, writing about it—or writing about much of anything else—has not gone well. Processing Mom’s death and moving on with joy and purpose has felt like a big obstacle that landed in my path. Period. Does writing about it help? It already has.
Yes, my writing has been really frustrating lately, but the consolation has been the solace I’ve had from reading: about triumph over tragedy and profound loss and the pursuit of well-being and how peaceful people focus on happiness instead of heartache. I know this much for sure: your thoughtful posts, e-mails, cards and letters in sympathy have let me feel your compassion from your own experiences with death and dying and let me know I’m not alone. Thank you so much.
Now, don’t worry about me, Dear Heart. I’m stronger than I look and really grateful for (1) Mom’s life and (2) positive influence and (3) departure from cancer. And that list is just the start. My life is opening up from this experience in miraculous ways, offering me new avenues to explore Connection and Gratitude and Passion. Don’t waste a minute worrying about my voice or my heart: I’ve turned the corner from “Yadda yadda” toward “Thank you kindly. Now, Bring It On!”
With Love & Light,
Dr Mell
