It hits me at different times, for different reasons. But with each little “milestone,” the emotions and sense of loss fill my chest. I spent most of the day yesterday alone at mom’s house. I’ve been surrounded and supported by loving friends and family for the last two weeks. But I felt I needed some quiet alone time. The reality is that we shared that home, the two of us. And growing up we faced the world together. While the love and support gave me as soft a landing as one could hope, at some point I do have to walk this path on my own.
I spent the day cleaning the house, doing laundry, getting things in order, leaving it as she would before a long trip. Driving away was difficult but arriving home was even harder. I always called her the minute I’d walk in the door to let her know I made it. I wouldn’t even unpack first, as I knew she was literally waiting by the phone to hear of my safe arrival. Having no one to call last night reverberated an emptiness that has settled into me.
It’s strange how I feel her absence more acutely now that I’m back in SF. Perhaps it’s because I’m facing a new reality without her on the other end of the line. She was part of my daily routine—the email exchange in the morning, the evening phone call, the funny and awkward texts. It’s very quiet now.