June 26, 2012

Posted by Rie On 12:09 AM

Just drinking a cup of tea before bedtime. Long day - had a night shift in daugaard and didn't sleep much. Was up at 6:30 am (which is not normal for me - hate early mornings!) and drove home at 8. Had a nap and then got ready for work again at 1 pm. Off at 10 pm and now I'm home, enjoying the peace.

Things are good here. Will be starting school again in August and I'm super excited. Camping with kids next week. Working at the pub and daugaard in July. Buying a car very soon. Exercise mania in July. Tattoo time for me soon.

Actually.... Things are going really well here.

June 11, 2012

Posted by Rie On 12:46 PM
It's been a year since I lost my Mormor. I remember that phone call from Dad as if it were yesterday. It was a Saturday, early afternoon and I was at the gym, just finishing a dancefit class with my friend when I had noticed that there was an unanswered phone call on my cell. From my Dad. I'm pretty used to quickly figuring out the time difference and knew right away that it had happened since it was very early morning his time. I quickly gathered my things and called him as soon as I had left the building. Dad quietly told me that Mormor was gone. Tears were streaming down my face as I listened to his voice, telling me that she had found peace at 3am her time. My friend didn't have to ask - she just knew what I was being told and quietly found me a kleenex and let me have a good cry while I was standing outside of the gym. I don't know how long we stood there. It could have been 5 minutes but it could have been 45 minutes. She guided me to the Pub, which is next door to the gym and even though it was closed, my boss was there so we went inside to get away from onlookers. He knew too - it was no secret that Mormor was dying. They didn't come with all sorts of advice or words of wisdom and I appreciated that. It didn't matter what they said, they knew that it wouldn't bring her back. He poured me coffee, automatically added milk. My friend handed me a smoke and I was allowed to just cry.

I had a good talk with mom a few hours afterwards. We cried. I could hear in her voice that she was tired and drained. She kept putting one foot in front of the other, dealing with all the practical stuff that comes with death. Mormor had found peace but the rest of us experienced a great loss.

I had to work that night at the Pub and my boss understood why I decided to keep that shift instead of staying at home alone. I think the rest of my co-workers found out before I got to work and let me just drown myself in my job. I felt guilty that I was standing in a bar the day my Mormor died, trying to keep up a smile to the unknowing guests. One of our regulars stopped me and asked me if I was okay. She said that I was missing the happy wrinkles on my face and that my eyes seemed empty. She could see that my smile was fake. I guess I couldn't fool everyone.

I don't remember much from that shift. Or the day after. I remember that it hit me, hit me really hard 2 days afterwards. Mormor was gone and she was never coming back. My mom was fumbling around in the darkness, trying to deal with her pain while life kept moving forward. I spent that summer with my parents. We didn't talk all too much about Mormor, it still hurt too much. The memories of her being sick, of her dying and everything that happened afterwards was too much for Mom. I could see that Mom's smile was fake. Her laughter was empty and all we could do was be there when she needed us and back off when she needed her space.

I didn't grow up with my Mormor just down the street. They lived several thousand kilometers from us so our relationship was over emails and phone calls. As I got older, I got better at writing and we communicated on a regular basis. I sent them pictures, she sent me pictures. We sang to each other on birthdays. I babbled to her about work and boys. She gave me shit for swearing too much. I think we became closer when I moved to Denmark, even though the physical distance between us was greater. I wasn't there when she died. I wasn't there the days up to her death and I wasn't there to deal with everything after her death. But I was still able to say goodbye. I kept writing and calling until she was gone. She wasn't able to read the letters herself at the end of her journey, but I know my mom and my aunt made sure my Mormor knew that I was there and that I loved her.

I sometimes catch myself thinking "I should remember to tell Mormor this...." when something stupid or funny happens. For a split second, I forget she's gone.

She'll always be there in my heart.

Mormor, I love you.