M&M's for Breakfast

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."

C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Three weeks ago today, I lost the only unconditional love that I have ever known.  My mom was a beautiful, kind, funny, and generous spirit – and she was my best friend.  She religiously called me at 6 am and kept me company on my commute to work and she was the first person I called crying when I got the flu last year.  At some point during every conversation that I had with her, she asked me about what I had for breakfast, what I packed for lunch, and what I was cooking for dinner.  She was the last person left on this planet that would freak out if I let it slip that I hadn’t eaten all day…

And now, there is just this huge void…the kind of void that I once filled with alcohol and pills…A hollow emptiness that can make your voice echo for days.  The kind of gaping hole that threatens to swallow a person up if they don’t step slowly and gingerly around it.

I have mantras that get me through the day:  This too…May this serve awakening…Forgiven, Forgiven…May I feel held in loving presence…Safe and at ease…

Today, I had M & M’s for breakfast.  I had Nachos for lunch.  And I had Coca Cola for dinner.

Forgiven, forgiven…

I didn’t take a pill…I didn’t drink a bottle of wine…

It was the best I could do…

Tomorrow will be better…and if it isn’t, well…then some tomorrow in the future will be better.

I am going to bed sober…

It wasn’t a banner day,

But it was enough.

Just for today…it was enough…