I Carry You In My Heart

The hardest thing about the death of a loved one is their physical absence. It takes the brain time to come to terms with a reality it can’t understand. And though Mike and my mom live in my heart, the physical loss can be staggering.

After a brief respite of being numb, all the emotions of grief came roaring back to the surface. One trigger after another set-off anxiety, sadness, and tears. March 13 will mark ten years since Mike died suddenly. It usually is a more challenging time of year, but this year I’m also experiencing the acute grief of my mom’s death on January 23, 2022.

Saturday night, I watched the remake of West Side Story. It was well done, but it brought back memories of my parents watching musicals with my mom singing along. It brought tears to my eyes as I missed hearing my mother’s voice. There was also the sadness that dad wouldn’t enjoy musicals like he once did because that was what was playing on TV all the time for the last two years.

On Monday, Jim Maving, a songwriting collaborator of Mike’s from 30 years ago, posted a photo on Instagram that included a band poster of James Maving and The Kickback. Mike wrote lyrics, and Jim wrote the music. I asked him to send the songs files, which he still plays. So I could listen to them in snippets. It was bittersweet to hear the music, with the memories they evoked and knowing that Mike’s words still lived on so many years later.

Tuesday was errand day, and I was feeling pretty good. I was able to go to the stores and stock up on the groceries that I needed. While looking for meat, I saw a good deal on ground beef. As has happened often since my mom died, I thought, “That’s my mom in me!” because she was the queen of finding a good deal. Everything was going fine, but I was hit by a tsunami of anxiety and sadness when I woke up from my nap. I was able to work, but the minute I was done, the grief was unbearable.

That is what grief is, remembering how the person you love still lives on in you. It’s feeling grateful for the positive ways they have changed your life and heartbroken that they are not here with you. The reality that everyone dies, how they died, or their age does not soften the blow. It’s the price of love.