With the news of my mother's death less than an hour old, those words stung.
Loss? I didn't misplace my mother like a set of car keys. I know exactly where she is. She's lying in her bed where she took her last breath waiting to be transported to the mortuary. She isn't lost.
As news about her death spread, more condolences flowed in.
"I'm sorry to hear you lost your mother."
"I'm so sorry for your loss."
"I just heard about your loss."
I wanted to scream back at these wonderful, kind people, "I didn't lose my mother, I know where she is!"
As the days went on, her death became more real. First was seeing her body for the first time and getting her ready to go in the casket. Then the viewing, then closing the casket, the funeral, the graveside service, and finally seeing the flowers and soil piled gently on her final resting place.
But she still didn't seem lost. I know where she is... the Cliffview Cemetery in Price, Utah.
Yet, of course there is a loss.
- Three-hour marathon conversations while we both cleaned our houses.
- Browsing at Tiffany's pretending like we can afford whatever we try on.
- Swapping recipes that we found on Pinterest or Relief Society activities.
- Getting cards for Christmas, Valentines, Halloween, birthdays and anniversaries.
- Trying to decide together what my missionaries would want in their next care package.
- Listening to her latest favorite CD together.
- Visiting with Linda at the City Creek Deseret Book about the newest artwork.
- Always eating at Si Senor's the first night I come for a visit.
- Knowing she is just a phone call away.
But she still doesn't seem lost. She seems very close.
Chris has her creativity.
Elise has her passion.
Bruce has her magnetism.
Alice has her grace.
Johnny has her musicality.
I haven't lost my mother. I now exactly where she is.
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