We usually reserve the quantifying of time for the good things in life. We count the weeks of pregnancy, the years of life, the grades of school, the years of marriage, how many months or weeks until the next holiday or special event, or how many days until our next paycheck.
When my mother died, it was the first experience with keeping track of time in my mind as it pertains to a negative event. It's quite different than from the anticipation of something or the leading up to another birthday. It's surrounded by anxiety and sadness, and every time that date rolls around in a month, a reliving of the death is experienced inside the brain.
Today marks five months without my mother. And though it seems like it's been five forevers since I saw her last, there are moments that her absence seems like such a fresh wound in my soul. I miss her every bit as much today as I did the first day without her, and I don't think that will ever go away. Funny things is that now that we are settled into the normal every day life, the ways I miss her seem to multiply. Nearly every day something small occurs or I see or hear something that I would like to share with her, to go over with her, to hear her thoughts on. And though I know that I can talk to her empty space in the air around me anytime I want, there's little to no consolation in doing so. Truth is, I don't want to pretend to talk to her... I want the real deal. And my heart doesn't settle for talking to imaginary friends anymore.
I had an imaginary friend when I was little. Her name was Marcie. My mother said that I would talk and talk and talk to her just like she was there. Even to the point that it was a wee bit embarrassing to my mom. Wherever I went, Marcie was there. I assume she was as real to me as a real friend, but no one else could see her. How I wish I could back to that place in my mind where a figment of imagination is enough to satisfy me. Oh how I wish... then it wouldn't have been five months since I had seen her face. I could see her and talk to her anytime I wanted, and no one would even know.