I’m up, into the wee hours of election night with only the company of a Netflix rerun of a sitcom I never knew existed. I wish my mother still existed. It was odd casting my absentee ballot, while storing her ballot in a box with all the other post-death documents.
I still don’t know how I got here. I don’t know where I’m going either. Of course, I daydream about how much my life will change in the future, with little regard for how much it’s already changed. My world has been upended and there’s no way I can go back to the comfort of my mother. There’s no way I can seek solace in her if the mass poll results don’t reflect my own.
This election day marked the end of a strenuous four years. In the fall of 2016, my mother was diagnosed with congestive heart failure (CHF), a condition that instantly catapulted me from a bright eyed college grad into an anxious caregiver. Unfortunately, she lost her battle with the progressive heart disease last month. Those final days are embedded in my mind and I’m fortunate that I could spend them with her.
With this blog, I’ll share my feelings as I go through the stages of grief. I know this will be a rocky road. Please forgive me…
Kee Grieves 