Obsessed

Everyone copes and grieves in different ways. People do different things. Some times you try not to think about it, and other times it is all you think about. Some days you stay so busy to avoid facing reality, and other days you can not do anything at all. The emotions come in waves, big giant ones. You never know when they will come or how high or low they will be, so you always have to be ready to "surf."

One thing I found myself doing, and it started early on, was being obsessed. Obsessed to find every picture of Mom ever taken, scared I might miss one. Obsessed in wanting to wear a bracelet or small piece of her jewlrey, to have on my body at all times. Obsessed to keep things in her house exactly how she would have kept them. Obsessed to live out my Mom's legacy properly to my children. Obsessed to write and journal every word of her journey and story. And obsessed to do things that I know Mom wanted to do or have done. Things I saw that she had written down, things I found that I knew what she was going to do with them, things I heard her mention that were on her to do list, even if just in passing. I felt compelled to do them, and do them all, but it did not take long for me to realize that it would be impossible for me to do everything I knew she had wanted to do. I can barely live my own life at a maintenance level, much less try to continue to live out Mom's life for her too. I had to come to grips with knowing that I would have to pick and choose, and do it wisely. I would simply have to let some things go, and it was going to be hard, extemely hard. I was OBSESSED.