As another 4th of July passes by, I can’t help but let my thoughts wander back to two years ago.
Two years may seem like it was forever, but some days, it feels like it was just yesterday.
Two years ago, almost to this very same day, we missed all the celebrations; we missed all the fireworks and all the barbecues. We were sitting in a hospital listening to the constant sounds in an intensive care unit. Two years ago, we were saying our goodbyes.
You see, we lost my mother in law to cancer two years ago.
Two years ago, while everybody was deciding what to do or where to go for fireworks and other celebrations, we were deciding which songs should be played during a funeral. We were deciding what the funeral program should say and look like. We were deciding what should go on that little piece of paper, that is supposed to represent what your loved one would have wanted.
While others were deciding what to grill or what kind of chips or drinks were needed, we were dealing with the grief.
While the world was running out to the store for last minute fireworks or snacks, my mother in law took her last breath and her eyes never opened again. While cancer may have took her body from us, she is still in our hearts.
I’ve heard it said; you never truly get over the loss of a parent, much like I can only heartbreakingly speculate, one never gets over the loss of a child.
Now when I see fireworks or think about the celebration of the 4th of July, I can’t help but let my thoughts wander back to that day two years ago. I can’t help but reflect on how trivial the decisions we make everyday are. Decision that, yes, we must make, but they are trivial decisions nonetheless.
I can’t help but wonder, did we celebrate enough? Life is so fleeting. It’s so easy to forget that, no matter how much we are reminded of that.
I hope you remembered to celebrate, to celebrate the independence of the holiday. I hope you were able to celebrate with friends and family. I hope the fireworks brought joy to your heart and a smile of wonder to your children’s faces. I hope you celebrated in remembrance of all the sacrifices it took to make this country great.
And I hope, if you are experiencing a loss or have in the past, that in spite of the deep pain you feel, in spite of the hole in your heart, or that pit in your stomach, in spite of the tears blinding your eyes and the heaves of breath coming from your sobs, in spite of your whole body feeling numb or the lead in your feet, that you remember life does go on. Carry on, one day at a time, one foot in front the other, one breath at a time, life does go on. The world may be going much faster or seem to be spinning in circles, but there is still life. In that life, there are still people who need you and who love you. Remember to let them in.
Remember to celebrate. Celebrate the living. Celebrate memories.
While there are many memories that my mother in law will not be able to be a part of, there are many that she was a part.
The memories of welcoming me into her home and life and always making sure I had a birthday cake (even before I was officially part of the family ), memories of her boys’ firsts and their graduations. Family vacations. The memory of her tears of happiness at our wedding.
And my most treasured, memories of her holding her first baby granddaughter. So many memories, too many to recount. Memories of that same baby saying “Mimi” and in the last few months being able to see her take her first steps. How I do wish she could be here with us now.
I would like to say it gets easier, but the pain is still there for me, even more so for my husband and his brother and father.
I only knew her but a short time (seven years is a very short time). I never thought that would be all I had. I never thought that would be all my daughter had and that my baby son would only have the memories we remember to share.
How arrogantly we all live our lives. One blink is all it takes for your life to change.
That at times terrifies me. But I cannot live in fear, fear will paralyze you.
