It’s the Monday after the Sunday night 2 weeks after mom has gone. I’m starting the 3rd week without her. It feels unreal. It feels like she’s still here, just a half a block down the street. I still expect the phone to ring. I would pick it up and it would be mom giving me her grocery list. Or I would think, I have to ask mom. Now, sometimes I hesitate to look at her photos, afraid that she wouldn’t be there. When I do look, she is still my same mom.

Today, I went over to vacuum for dad. My brother and niece had taken him out. I was in mom’s house by myself. It still feels light and bright as always. Not too much to vacuum up except a little in the kitchen. Not much dust anywhere except in dad’s room. All the windows and screens looked clean. I wonder if mom’s been back, cleaning and dusting. She was always meticulously clean and tidy even up to her last moments.

I was almost finished when my dad returned. He said that my brother and niece had taken him to Market Mall, brought flowers, coffees and muffins and drove out to lay flowers for mom. He is full of grieve and weeping. What can I say or do? Some words of comfort? He has lived longer than me. I try to console. The reality is, this is something none of us can escape. I tell him mom is still here, looking over him. And we, his children are also suffering and grieving for our mother. It is early. Only 2 weeks ago. Time will ease the sorrow. We are all ok, doing the best we can, looking out for each other.

I’m writing for the National Blog Posting Month. It gives me one goal a day. It keeps me a little sane.