Throughout the three to four years before October 17th, 2020, there were dozens of times I wished I could turn back time to a place where my mother was whole. As the reality of the destination the barreling train called dementia was carrying her and my family set in–my wish diminished to slowing down the ride.

As Mom’s dementia progressed, I began to realize there was so much I wanted (and had planned to eventually) learn from her–that she could no longer teach.

Questions to ask, conversations to have;
things I needed to say–that could no longer be comprehended.

In the blink of an eye October, 17th 2020 came and went. A moment later, it is October, 1st 2021. My mind is consumed by thoughts of making time stop–no room remains for thinking about anything else.

I did not realize the inevitable approach of the first anniversary of her passing would impact me in such a profound way. Every fiber of my being screams incessantly into the universe. It demands the that universe stop the earths daily rotation–stop its orbit around the sun!

It’s impossible.

Even as I dig my proverbial heels in, time marches onward. Dragging me forward–kicking and screaming–into the future.

I know that my mother is whole again. I rejoice in this and am grateful she was spared the world events of the past year. Yet I selfishly want her whole–and here with me.

I love and miss my beautiful, gentle, kind‐hearted, angel mother.

No, I don’t have an answer for how to manage the grief of loss. But there is comfort in recognizing that I am not alone in my struggle.

My hope is that readers struggling with this grief will also find at least some small comfort in knowing they are not alone.