I would rather read than write right now, and even that I don’t want to do much, nor do I want to do much of anything at all because my mom just died eight days ago, without warning. I’d just visited her a few days prior, and before leaving I thought to myself how I wish I’d had a heart-to-heart talk with her, but there didn’t seem to be a good time for it, and I decided I would visit more often and do it next time. The thing is, we didn’t get a next time. I always hear about people who communicate with angels, or with those who have passed, how the deceased come to them in mysterious ways or in dreams, and that hasn’t happened to me yet, except for the night we heard a screech owl.
My sister, boyfriend, and I were walking the dogs along the golf course the first or second night after she passed, and I heard the sound first. “What is that?” I asked them, and everyone hushed. It was getting dark on the golf course, and the sound was like a woman or a baby crying. It was very eerie, like a descending whinny or descending trill, and we kept calling out names of different animals, trying to figure out what it was. I thought it had to be a bird of some sort, then my sister and I said, “Owl.” Then at the same time, “Mom liked owls.” I like to believe it was Mom.
I want her to come to me and let me know that she knows how much I love her. It’s so unfair that she left this earth so soon. I thought I would take care of her in her old age. I thought she’d be around for 20 or maybe even 30 more years. She didn’t even know I’d planned on taking care of her in her old age because I never told her. She was only 66 years old and in good shape. She’d just gone to the doctor and everything looked good except her upper number was slightly high. But she had a stroke three weeks later anyway, and died, just like that.
I cried so hard my entire head hurt. I couldn’t sleep all week. Today I felt numb mostly which I hate because I want to feel my feelings. Mostly I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to work, go to school, live everyday normal life. What’s the point? I do not really want to live without her. I do not know how I can go on. I don’t know what my purpose is. Once when I was in high school and going through a hard time she told me, “No one loves you more than I do.” I believe her. I don’t know who else will ever love me that much. I don’t know who else I can love that much.
All the Louise Hay positive thinking cards and books I just cannot bear. How can I think positively when my mother just died? I also don’t feel like continuing with school and trying to become a nutritionist. A person can eat healthy all day for decades and still drop dead from a stroke in one second at the age of 66. I don’t see any point to living a long life, especially for me, because I don’t have children. I’m not suicidal—I just feel incredibly sad right now. Mom would not have wanted me to be depressed like this. She’d have wanted me to get on with my life, to find peace and happiness and joy in life. I will try to do that, but it’s so hard right now.