I recently found a few old Tumblr posts I wrote when my mom was sick, and I was in the thick of grieving. Those posts were raw and rife with so much loneliness, heartache, and pain. It brought me back to those isolating moments when I tried desperately to cling to hope. Not that a miracle would occur and my mom would go into remission, but that I would be able to get through the worst. That it wouldn’t always be so painful. “It can’t always be like this,” I thought to myself every day. I wanted her pain to end.
“I woke up today and remembered that my mom is dying. I thought of all the moments that she isn’t going to be here for, and I cried. I listened to a voicemail that she left on my phone a year ago. She wished me a happy birthday and told me that she loved me. I mourned for the person she used to be: vibrant, healthy, but most of all, my mom. Now she’s just a shell of the person that I used to know. There are certain moments that I recognize her as the person I used to know. When she asks me in her concerned voice if I ate yet, when she tells me that I am special and a gift from God, when she makes a joke that’s completely inappropriate and I don’t know how to react. Those are the moments that are laced with hope, for that’s when I’m allowed to have a break from grieving and I don’t have to miss her anymore because she isn’t completely gone yet.”
-One of my Tumblr posts
My former grief counselor told me to look at my track record when I doubt my ability to overcome challenges. I think back to 22-year-old and 23-year-old Zoe. I think of those versions of myself, and I’m so in awe of their strength. I’m in awe of their capacity to hope for better things in the midst of a turbulent storm.
I used to feel a lot of shame about having a sick mom and then a dead mom. I thought it made me broken and unloveable. Who would want to deal with my baggage? Because I couldn’t connect with friends at the time, I thought I was damaged. This makes me think of a quote that Rachel Cargle posted: “One key to living a soft & easeful life is letting each situation be what IT is not what YOU are.”
If I could go back in time, I would tell 23-year-old Zoe that she isn’t broken. I would tell her that the waters are rough, but the tide will eventually turn. I would thank her for getting us through the hardest season and tell her to take comfort in the fact that she got to say goodbye.
There’s so much healing in reconnecting with former versions of ourselves and extending kindness and grace to them. There’s so much healing in extending that same kindness and grace to the current version of ourselves. This practice reminds us that we’re not broken. We’re whole, flawed, and loveable.
Things I’m Processing Lately
- Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman. It’s not your typical time management self-help book, and he doesn’t offer any hacks for getting better at time management. Instead, he offers a compassionate and realistic take about examining your relationship to time. I loved it!
-This episode by The Ezra Klein show about the rise of book bans in libraries. I have a profound love and respect for libraries. I wouldn’t be able to read as much if it weren’t for their existence.
-It was my grandfather’s birthday earlier this month, and I had such a great time celebrating with my family. We laughed, ate good food, and had great conversations. It was pure bliss.
-Listening to Olivia Rodrigo’s album GUTS. I love Lacy, Vampire, Logical, and Pretty Isn’t Pretty.
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My latest post was about connecting with my 36 year old self who was grappling with grief and life. It was incredibly healing to go back in time and connect with that beautiful, scared version of myself. Thank you for sharing a bit of your story.