The care home Mom was in for the last five months of her life was in Garland. I tried to visit her at least 3-4 times a week and became familiar with the route and scenery. The last time I went there was the day before her funeral. I was picking up her belongings and just being in the house brought a lot of pain, never mind going into the room she died in and seeing the empty bed. On the way back home, I told myself that I’d never have a reason to go back that way and I didn’t want to anyway.
I’m out of town right now with my boyfriend and his family. On the way to our destination, I happened to look out the car window and the apartment buildings looked familiar. When I realized we were taking the same route that I took to see Mom, the grief hit hard and I just wanted to cry. I thought about all the times I was in the car going to see Mom and how I both dreaded and looked forward to seeing her. I missed having her at home so much, but it was difficult watching her spirit diminish and her body break down even further.
I’ve been in a weird headspace this week.