The 366 Photo challenge for February was the color rose. On mother's birthday, I happened to have a pink rose in the house, a rare event.
I have been actively grieving for nearly a year now. Initial acute pain turned into a wired elation and joy where I felt very alive. Then darker, more tired. Her birthday was super dark. Dark.
I have been feeling lost without her. She had such a power in my life, like no other. Without her, who am I to seek approval from, Or to disappoint?
In the movie Terms of Endearment, the lousy two-timing husband says about his dying wife, something like, "Who am I if not the man disappointing Emma?"
I am not sure mother was as critical of me as I believed her obe. That was a strong pole in my life, to be drawn to, to resist.
Without her voice here I have placed a critical voice in the thoughts of my friends and in my own voice, of course. Now I can carry that on to be sure, have been doing it for years, but oddly, I am finding a decreased need for criticism, also for approval. Maybe its temporary, I am quite sure the paranoia about my worth will surge and ebb throughout my life.
No greater force than my mother's voice. But now that is silenced, who am I?
This is my new frontier.
