The Gift of Grief

Bonus Mom

Grief is a selfish emotion. It demands attention when it wants attention. It doesn't give warning, just showing up, generally at inopportune moments. Like a bad house guest, it overstays its welcome and leaves a wake of physical and emotional debris when it finally leaves, only to come back when one is most vulnerable.

Even after all these months, my heart aches for Bonus Mom. Lately I find myself weeping uncontrollably in the candy aisle at Wal-Mart for her. I compose mental e-mails to her while I am walking in the morning, forgetting she isn't around to read them. And right now, I am just sitting in my comfy chair as the tears wash over my face, wondering when the emotionally-driven grief-fog will lift and will I ever stop spontaneously crying? I miss her. Oh so, so, much. I wish she had been alive to celebrate my birthday with me this month. I wish she was here to see Polly's prom pictures. I wish I could call her to tell her Buckaroo got his driver's permit. I wish I could call and ask her a question about baking bread. I JUST WISH SHE WAS HERE.

This constant grief is a reminder of the fact she didn't have to love me. She chose to. She chose me. That is an amazing gift.