Following

 

My mother died in December, but from somewhere she still seems to follow my blog.

When I first started my blog, I thought I would—could—say anything. But being honest and vulnerable was harder than I expected when my mother became a follower. It was far easier to have strangers read my words than my mother. The irony was that I always wanted to be close to my mother. I wanted a mother who asked about my thoughts and my love life. But this was not how my mother was, at least with me.

My mother death was sudden, though her health had been poor for a while. I am still feeling the raw edges of her passing. And I still keep her number in my cell phone, not that I expect her to call, but how can I remove her from the most important list of names I carry? And now, seeing she is still following my blog, how can I not keep posting? How can I give up hope that the words I am afraid my mother will read, she will somehow read anyway, and that in spite of her need to keep a distance and my fear of being seen by her, something good will come of it?

My mom had a really big secret! It shocked us all, though our aunt and uncle both knew, all the older generations knew. Like most secrets, the longer she avoided telling us the harder it seemed to be to tell us. I understand so much more about my mother that I couldn’t comprehend before and I am still hoping my mother and I will move toward a relationship with more intimacy. I would like to be following her and hearing her thoughts and feelings. I don’t expect her death to stop us from a having a growing understanding or closeness.

One setback may be that since she died, the ringing phone just doesn’t have that same insistent tone that forced me to answer, no matter what I was doing. Quite possibly, Mom and I are going to have to find another way to communicate.