Une annee sans

[starlady]

A year ago, my mother died of ovarian cancer at the age of fifty-seven.

This is the post I wrote that day, and I still agree with what I said. I'd be missing the point if I said that my mom's death hasn't had a huge effect on me--looking back through my journal, it's only the posts after her diagnosis in which I recognize the current version of myself; before that I just didn't look at things the same way. The last two years of my life in particular were shaped by my mom's illness; I left Japan and multiple academic and career opportunities behind to be with her until the end--but as much as I have strong opinions on death, dying, life, cancer and how we talk about all of them in the States, it would be missing the point too not to note that my mom's life is what really has affected me. From the cradle to the grave, I am her daughter in countless ways; it's because of her, to take just one example, that I am going to graduate school, and it's because of her and my dad shelling out cash to send me to private schools that I was accepted to, and will attend, the graduate school that I did. And as much as having lost my mother just really is terrible at times, I've always been clear on the fact that between grief for one's parents and no parents I'll take the grief. And by the same token, the grief one feels is unaffected by age, I think; no matter how long I might have had with her, it would never have been long enough.

This afternoon my dad and I drove down to the beach where we scattered her ashes, in accordance with her wishes, the night before Mother's Day under a full moon last year. It was raining a bit today, but the water looked very turquoise. My mom loved the ocean, and it always reminds me of her; it also strikes me as a bona fide image of eternity, for what that's worth. But there's never a day that I don't think of her, really; some days I can honestly accept the fact that she's gone, and others I find that I am less reconciled to it than I thought, or would honestly like. Some days I can remind myself that I know that she loved me, and was and would have been proud of me, while others I think that saying such things, however true they are, is missing the point. It's not a linear process. But regardless, I've never thought there was any choice but to get on with it, and to get on with life. My mom wanted us to do that, as we could, and she was right.

---

This is my post for the day, so have a link via oursin about Corvus moneduloides, an extraordinarily intelligent species of tool-using crow. Crows! I love crows so much, they are awesome. 

Comments

[la_vie_noire]

I'm sorry. She really was a great person. *huugs*

[starlady]

Thank you.

And thank you too for that post on chronic pain you linked to a while back--I clicked through and read the whole thing and found it very interesting and also helpful.

[snarp]

*hug*

[starlady]

感謝するよ。

[eumelia]

Thank you for writing this.

*hug*

[starlady]

Thank you for reading. :-)

[oursin]

Sympathy.
My mother died, not that young but still not very old, of cancer some considerable while ago, and I still miss her in the falling of the leaves and at the turning of the tide, but when I consider the fraught relationships with parents that some of my friends have, I am grateful to have had a mother for whom I can have those emotions.

[starlady]

Thank you.

And yes, I certainly feel that way too. And as young as my mother did die, it could have been younger--in all these respects, I am actually lucky.

[inkstone]

:hugs::

[starlady]

Thank you. ^^

[outou]

I wish I had something better to say, but I've been lucky enough never to have had a loss as deep as yours--there really isn't anything I can say. Even so, I think you are both admirable and brave in your outlook; I wish more people could find that strength.

[starlady]

Oh, well, one thing I learned pretty quick with this is that it doesn't matter what people say so much that they say it. So thank you. :-)

[dancinglights]

much sympathy. it sounds like a lovely and fitting tribute, your trip back to the ocean. i hope it helped, some....

[starlady]

Oh, definitely.

The last time we were at this particular beach, when we scattered her ashes, it was just us and a bunch of teenagers getting drunk down the beach, which was good because I think what we did violates at least some municipal ordinances and also because I think my mom would have found it funny. Yesterday it was just us and the hard-core fishermen.

And thank you.

[socair.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

[starlady38.livejournal.com]

Thank you. :-)

[shvetufae.livejournal.com]

Lovely. She sounds like she was an amazing woman.

[starlady38.livejournal.com]

The story I always tell is, "Well, she graduated from law school three weeks before I was born, and she was salutatorian of her class, and did I mention she went to night school two hours away from where she lived and had her full-time job? And then a month after I was born she passed the bar, twice."

I didn't even realize that might be unusual until, seriously, college.