I'm busy, but cheerful. I find myself smiling as I work or drive. This is balanced with moments of intense sadness each time I remember that Monday is the fourth anniversary of my mother's death.
I'm trying to stop myself from doing the death countdown. But yesterday I realized that I could no longer remember all the details. It is hard to accept that I could forget anything about those intense days. I can't remember if it was Saturday or Sunday when I saw how yellow my mom's complexion was getting. My mom died on a Wednesday. So there is that transition math, "that was Monday, so -2 days, so this year it equals Saturday."
I know it was Monday that she took out her hearing aids. Even though it had been a horrid weekend, I had decided to go to work. I had done the paperwork for FMLA, but since we had no idea how long this would go on I was reluctant to start my leave. We all still expected her to recover, even after learning that she probably would not. When I got there Monday night after work I was told that she had removed her hearing aids and said they were a nuisance. That is the moment I knew she was going to die. My mom had worn hearing aids since she was a child. She put them in before getting out of bed and kept them in until she went to sleep.
My mom always made a big deal over May Day when we were kids. On May 1, we would pick flowers, or make paper flowers if spring was slow in coming, and hang them in paper baskets on the doors of neighbor women. On year I made yarn pom-poms, added google eyes and wrote a little May Day tag to give instead of flowers.
I've been thinking of May Day a lot this year. I want to acknowledge it somehow. The ideal would be to make up bouquets to hang on the doorknobs of all the women who were there around my mom when she died. But I don't want to set myself up for a task I don't yet have the initiative to complete. There were at least seven women there besides my sis and me. My mother was surrounded by loving friends when she died, even though she wasn't conscious to see it.
So I'd like to hang flowers for my sis, and the one neighbor lady who still lives next to my parents. She is one of the original recipients of my childhood offerings. I'll have to buy the flowers on Sunday and get out early before work to do it. If I get motivated enough I'll bring tiny bouquets for my women friends at work. I thought of bringing flowers to my Sunday night meeting, but would feel bad if I didn't have enough.
We'll see. Tradition dictates a home-made paper basket, preferably a paper cone with ribbon handle. I may or may not follow through with this idea. I'll do what feels right and not pressure myself to do what I think I "Should" do.