Silence is broken

So the blog has been quiet - because I've been quiet... Thanks for the comments to find out if I survived the big fat Greek engagement party... I am alive, and in one piece, although I have a few wounds to show for it.

Seriously.

I'll blog about the engagement party at some stage, probably when I get some pics from my sister - but lets just say, there was a priest, a ceremony, plate breaking, dancing, controlled flames, and plenty of spirit... definitely a good way to start their journey to getting married.

The blog's been quiet because I've been in a totally weird space.

A friend's mom died last week. I got a call from her as she was on her way to her mom's house, and she was calling to release some of her confusion. No one was sure what had happened, all they knew was she wasn't answering the door, and was found unconscious. She was obviously distraught.

A little while later, the worst was confirmed and from there, she has had to deal with the reality of her mom's death, with her sisters.

I've known Tart for 20 years. In fact, we're planning to celebrate our 20-year anniversary later this year. And in knowing her, I've got to know her family. I knew her mom as a vibrant, passionate woman, who loved her daughters fiercely - almost as much as she loved wearing red. She was warm, funny and always made you feel at home. I remember her as confrontational, and slightly intimidating, but always because she was protecting those closest to her. And, boy, did she love God.

Their loss really affected me... I felt their loss so vividly, because there is nothing quite like losing a mother. No matter how old you are. Mother's are your umbilical cord to life, and losing them always reminds you of your own mortality, and the need to hold onto moments in life, and fight to find them.

I wished I had the words to console them, but I know how much they're going to hurt. The "firsts" are the first thing - first birthday without her, first Christmas, and then remembering her birthday and day of passing. The lie is that it gets easier with time. It doesn't. It just gets more distant. And that's where the pain is.

I've tried to walk alongside the family as much as I could, and hope that I was a friend when they needed one. And when it all goes quiet, and everyone expects you to get on with life and work, I'll continue checking in.

Tart's mom's memorial service was also incredibly powerful. The three daughters lead worship - their mom loved nothing more than the three of them to sing together, so as painful as it was, it was her gift.

So, why am I blogging about this? It's cathartic, mostly... and after releasing this I can get back to the fun stuff. I just wanted to pay tribute to her, although I think Frank's post was incredibly beautiful and moving and should be read. And I wanted to pay tribute to moms. I don't think you ever really know how much your mom means to you until she's no longer there. Well, not just moms, but there is something special about a mom - your life-giver. Those of you with moms, live every moment. Let her know how much you love her, build bridges if you need to, and savour every moment...