Introduction

I suppose I should start off by telling you that if are looking for a light hearted, breezy, fun, kind of blog... You have come to the wrong place. I don't expect many followers or readers to this journal of thoughts I am putting together, because it will be dark and depressing, but will hopefully have bursts of joy. I am posting my thoughts online as an outlet for my journey through the grieving process, and maybe to help someone along the way. Grief and mourning is a lonely journey, feel free to keep me company.

My mom has been gone for almost 8 months now. Sometimes it feels like only yesterday that she left me, other days it seems like years since we last spoke. I guess it just depends on the day, kind of like a glass half empty or half full perspective, and I have so many examples of this glass... I'm glad I had 27 years with my mom, I'm sad I ONLY had 27 years with my mom. I'm glad she was my best friend, I'm sad that I never told her she was my best friend. The list can go on and on.

My mom lost her battle to ovarian cancer at 62 years young on August 30, 2009, a beautiful Sunday afternoon. I was at the playground with my husband, my son Christopher who was a week and a half shy of turning two, and my three week old son Evan. Yes, that right, a three week old baby, let me put this into perspective for a moment and refresh my foggy memory. I was in the hospital for 4 days after a c-section, home for maybe 5 days, in a hospital in Brooklyn, NY for 9 days, home for 1 day, and then back to NY for 2 days. My three week old didn't know anyone but me, and my two year old wanted nothing to do with me. I will probably go into more detail on the time line next later.

I managed to keep busy for awhile, as I really had no time for myself anyway. I was nursing around the clock and chasing after a toddler who was well into his terrible two's. But as my baby grew and didn't need to be on me every 2 hours, and as my two year old grew more independent and began to explore his free play more, my mind began to wander. After 6 months I started seeing a grief counselor, a big step for me since anytime my husband suggested I go talk to someone I would yell and cry and leave the room.

My last session was yesterday after going for about 5 weeks in a row, and then taking a two week break between my last two sessions. In those two weeks I realized that I couldn't go to grief counseling forever and that I was ready to give it a go on my own. So here I am, blogging is my new therapy session. This took my way longer to put together than my weekly 45 minute sessions, so I am off to bed. Good night and if your are in a sad place today, my prayers are with you.