Suffering From The Lack Of

Missing ~ wanting; longing for; pining for; feeling the absence of something or someone
I find this definition to be most appropriate:
suffering from the lack of

Yes, that definition sums up my feeling exactly, I am suffering from the lack of someone so important to my life, someone who gave me something so profound, and the massive void that took her place when she passed (five years ago today) leaves me longing and aching.

One day more, Mom, just one day more. Just an ordinary day, sitting at the table, having a cup of tea or coffee, and maybe one of your favorite crumb cakes, or cinnamon toast, not too dark, and not too light, toasted just right, and with lots of butter. Just one more cup of tea, Mom.

Please, let the phone ring, and I answer to, "Hi, it's just pesky me, it's just Mom." Please, Mom, the phone ring one more time. Just one more conversation, Mom.

Please let the front door open and I hear, "Anybody home? It's just me flopping in on you again." Please, Mom, the front door open and you walk in, just one more time, Mom, open the front door.

One more St. Patrick's Day, Mom, let's watch the parade together on TV, and I'll buy you a bouquet of green carnations, Mom, and you can sing 'O Danny Boy'. One more St. Patrick's Day, Mom.

One more story, Mom, tell me one more story about your childhood, or meeting Dad, or young motherhood, one more story, Mom, just one more story.

Tell me one more of your funny secrets, Mom, you know, where at the end of the story you laugh a little behind your hand, and give me that look, that 'Oh, I shouldn't have said that' look. Give me that look one more time, Mom.

One more time, Mom, walk up behind me and stroke my hair. One more stroke, Mom.
Please, Mom, one more hug. One more smile. One more, one more endearment, Mom. Just one more, Mom.

What's a world without a mother? Not as pretty.
What's a life without a mother? Not as loving.
Even Blessings don't shine as brilliant, Mom, because you're not here to share in them.

It's been five years, Mom, and still nobody has told me what to do with all this love. All this love I have reserved in my heart for only you, the love a child has for a mother, where do I put your love now, Mom? That is the definition of heartache, all this love inside with nowhere to go, the heart grows so heavy from the burden of it.

I recently read an article by Phil Nash, and he wrote:
"A few months ago, I was admitted to a club I would have preferred not to join. There is no secret handshake, no initiation ritual. It's membership is far bigger than you would imagine. And once admitted, you remain a sad member for life."

He went on to talk about all the things that have happened to him and his family since his Mom passed, all the events big and small that his Mom couldn't see and experience, and how stunning it is to him that the world has realigned itself and moved on without her. Seasons still change, how is that possible? And how is it possible that her Birthday comes and goes without her?
How cruel it is that there are reminders to us, telling us not to forget Mom on Mother's Day, as if we could.

I get what he's saying. I get that feeling of taking it all so personal. And I think most of us who have lost our Mom's know exactly what he's talking about.
Passing through the card aisle in the drug store and spotting a card for Mom (for any occasion) will engulf us in such misery of heart.
That never goes away. There is no healing from this feeling of grief. Not ever.

Losing you, Mom, is a grief beyond terrible, and life never really returns to normal.

I understand now, Mom, why you, even in your eighties you were constantly looking for your own mother who had passed away over forty years earlier, the heart is always going to seek that safe haven that is Mom.

Months of crying may be over, but that only makes things worse, there's no release anymore, there's no relief from grief once the tears stop.
"Pull yourself together", and "Get on with your life", that's all well and good, but no matter how much you pull yourself together or get on with your life, you never get away from the isolation of the heart, there's that one place in your heart and soul, that one 'Mom spot' that is now isolated.
Books, and professionals all go on about the stages of grief: anger, guilt, acceptance. But no one ever tells you about the stage of grief that is lifelong.

I am telling anyone who has lost their mother, it is a grief you will never get over. Don't fool yourself, and don't think that something is wrong with you because you carry this darkness and heaviness around with you. I'm not saying that you don't have good/happy memories that will help lighten your burden, and yes, there will be a bright spot in your heart too for your Mom always. But if you love your mother, you will never get over the fact that she is missing from your life. And your heart will never say goodbye, and there will always be a hole in your life and in your heart.

Mom, I know I sound bitter, but I'm not, I'm so grateful that I had you for as long as I did. And I do feel you all around me. But I still miss what once was. I'm missing you and I know I will go on missing, I will go on suffering from the lack of.