Tangled Up

Dear Mamacita,

As usual, I don't know where to begin.  I feel so tangled up inside.  I miss you so much.  It was exactly a year and a half ago today that the chains and bonds of your sick body were released, and you got to go to your Heavenly home.  It was exactly a year and half ago today that I lost my beautiful mom, my best girlfriend, my kids' Nana, my confidant, the one person who would always love me unconditionally.  One of my friends was correct when she said that when you died, I lost my identity, my place and grounding in this world.  One of my biggest desires right now is to drive up to Duluth by myself, and sit on the rocks, all bundled up, leave my phone and laptop in the car, and just sit there until I figure out who I am again.

I am struggling Momma.  My anxiety isn't under control.  I'm doing the hard work of figuring out exactly where it's coming from and what's causing it, but it still hurts (both emotionally and physically) and still frightens me.  I can hear you whispering to my heart mom. I know you'd say "Talk to me, Sweetheart."  Well, I know it all goes back to trusting God again, and how, if I'm totally honest, somewhere in my heart of hearts, I know I don't.  When you were sick I faithfully prayed for your healing.  I prayed that God's plan would play out in our lives.  I was told "No." by God, and our lives didn't play out the way I wanted them to.  Then on the one year anniversary of your death, Dave's dad died.  All the way to the hospital I prayed harder than I ever had in my whole life.  I said every prayer I know and recited "Hail Mary" over and over again, but it was already too late.  Again, I had been firmly told "No." by my Father.  I guess I have a fear of praying for anything important anymore.  I'm not sure I can take being told "No." again. 

I know that I can't see God's plan for my life and why he allowed these things to happen to me.  I also know that as a parent, I don't like telling my children no, but I do it for a reason, to teach them something, or protect them, or for some other reason that they can't understand.  I don't say no to punish them, even if they see it that way.  I know that that's probably what's going on between me and God.

Right before my birthday this year I was overcome by the guilt of wondering if I had prayed harder, or been more faithful, or read the Bible more, or went to church more to pray, if that would have changed God's plan for you.  A very good friend of mine told me that praying isn't a competitive sport and that God sees our hearts and knows what's there.  I told this friend of mine that I hated my birthday now. You and I are so tied together on this day, and I missed you so badly before that day.  My friend told me that to hate my birthday would be a dishonor to you, because you would say this day was one of the best days of your life.  I remember you telling me over the years that I was the light of your life, and on the last birthday card you gave me, you told me again how much you wanted me from the first moment you knew I was coming.  Those words really comforted me that day.  I grieved the loss of not having my mom here on this earth on my birthday, a few days before my birthday.  Then the actual day was actually very good.  I got a mani and pedi from our favorite "Sexy Ladies" and then an hour long massage.  It felt good to take care of me.  I know I need to do more of that. 

I need to find quiet in my life.  The class I have this year is extremely challenging, and I'm really stressed about them.  I seem to always have a headache.  Sam is doing well in school, but still struggles socially and at home.  Max had some mysterious fevers this past summer, which I think re-triggered some of my PTSD over what happened to you.  I couldn't fix you, I prayed as hard as I could but you still died.  I couldn't control the outcome of what happened to you, I couldn't control what happened to Dave's dad, and I couldn't fix my little boy, whose fever was topping 105 degrees for 10 days.  I feel like there isn't much I can control in my life.  I feel uncomfortable and sick or hurting all the time.  I'm going through a medication change and maybe I'll start seeing the benefits of that in a week or three, but until then it's really hard.  Nothing feels "right" or normal.  I even had an anxiety attack at school and had to go ride it out in the nurse's office until the meds kicked in.  I know I'm trying to control things that aren't in my control, or even my right to control, but I don't know how to let go of it.

In some ways, I know I'm getting better.  I went to a wedding last weekend (and btw, the bride looking amazingly stunning!) and I was able to tell funny and favorite stories about you without feeling the crushing pain of loss.  I was actually able to laugh when I told the stories and it didn't hurt afterwards. 

I need to find my way out of this labyrinth of fear, anxiety, pain and grief.  It's all tangled together and difficult to sort out which is which, since they are connected.  Please mom, pray or speak to Jesus for me and ask Him to help me through this.  I need you, and I know I need Him.  I wish I could meet you in my dreams, mom.  Somewhere in the clouds, and just have a chat.  I need one of our talks so badly.  The hole in my life and heart your death brought seems unfixable.  I need you Mamacita.  Please let me feel your presence close to me.  I need a sign that you're still around me, seeing the things that are happening in our lives.

All My Love,
Lucita