More Than Just Mom Died That Day

Not gonna lie, it is really hard to not dwell in a life that could have been if a certain experience didn’t happen.

When I feel extra alone in this world I tend to look at old pictures. While doing this I found Aunt Debbie’s planner from the year my mom died. With this planner, Aunt Debbie treated it like a journal during the month of my mom being sick. This planner has the exact timeline of Mom and how her sickness progressed but it also has the thoughts that Aunt Debbie was having during this time as well. Honestly, I think when mom died she took most of Aunt Debbie with her.

Mom was fully involved with my school such as PTA and being a classroom volunteer. In ways, I saw her more at school than I did at home.

Aunt Debbie was the one I spent a lot of time with after school going with her to walk dogs or clean buildings. I had two parents fully involved in my life. Then mom died, and Aunt Debbie died with her but I guess in ways I did as well.

Aunt Debbie did grow and heal during the nine years in Indiana post Mom but she was still in ways hollow inside. Then when you put two hollow people together it creates something toxic. We loved each other almost too much. We both tried to heal the other but ended up doing more damage. We both missed the life with Mom and we didn’t know how to get back to that life. I think for so many years we lied to ourselves knowing quite well that the life we were wanting, we weren’t going to get back.

It’s a contradicting feeling when you miss someone nearly more than anything but you don’t want them back. It is hard because losing Aunt Debbie meant being alone and being alone is hard.

BUT, these three years of being alone have saved me.

I am still healing, anyone around me knows that. I am also starting to live instead of just surviving (though I do still have my days).

I am still not as comfortable around my remaining Indiana family like I wish to be, but where we are now compared to three years ago is progress. I think in ways we are all happier, in a different way, than what we once were just a few years ago.

I do hope one day that they get to see me like my IWU family does. The Logan who is happy, goofy, full of life, and doesn’t care what others think about her. The one who gets a high from drinking three Coke Zeros in thirty minutes. The one who doesn’t let her trauma hold her back.

I hope one day everyone can see that Logan because I think she’s done a pretty good job at making lemons into lemonade (also that Logan is quite corny).