How Long is Too Long?

My mother passed away on January 22, 1996 after a long, progressive illness. I was there in the room with her. I remember telling the nurse that it looked like she was still breathing and not wanting the Coroner to take her. I remember feeling dazed and empty, like what was happening around me was a dream. I felt this way for days, possibly weeks.

Today is January 22, 2023. Shortly after I woke up I was reminded of the date and thought to myself, "my mom died on this day". I was in a cabin in the country with friends and I told one of them it was the anniversary of my mom's death, but there was no discussion. I don't even know if she heard me and that was fine. I didn't really want to talk about it, but felt the need to acknowledge it.

On the drive home and while doing chores in the yard, I forgot it was the anniversary of her death but I felt very tired and a bit melancholy. I chalked it up to a busy weekend with friends but it felt like more than that. I took a short nap hoping that would help with my energy level.

Later in the day, I remembered again. "It's January 22nd. My mom died 27 years ago. How can it be 27 years?" I remembered feeling this way at other times- tired, melancholy for no apparent reason, then correlating the date to a loss. Even when I don't remember the date, my body remembers the date. How can that be?

I've experienced profound loss of loved ones on more than one occasion. When researching grief, I found the well-known 5 stages and confirmation that there is no "right way" to grieve. Using my own experience, I can say that grief stays in the body. My body remembers and grieves even if I don't consciously remember right away. I'm not overwhelmed with grief or caught in a snare of self pity, but I know. I am reminded again she isn't here anymore. And it isn't just the grief over her death, it's he grief over the daily relationship, the experiences we had or didn't have, the finality.

Perhaps my body remembers because it was a trauma? A trauma to see her go, and possibly to see her live a life confined to bed and often in pain. My rational mind tries to convince me it's just a part of life, how can that be a trauma? Life is full of different degrees of trauma, I guess. The extremes of war and genocide to the loss of a loved one or pet. It will affect all of us in some way but not the same way.

I'm not waiting for the grief to end. I'm not waiting for January 22nd to come and go without a single thought of my mom. I'm just noticing. Noticing how long it's been and how the heaviness remains deep within me and surfaces from time to time. Noticing that even when one part of me doesn't remember, other parts of me do. Noticing there is no timeline and there is no "too long" to live with grief when it comes loss.