After My Mom's Death, I Developed A Seemingly Innocent Habit. Then It Spiraled Out Of Control.
Huff PostThe author and her mother, circa 1980. I begin to take pictures, rapid-fire, only to be interrupted by my phone flashing: “Cannot Take Photo.” This is not the first time my phone has shamed me for being unable to “Manage My Storage.” It started when my children were born, and now there are 22,383 pictures and 855 videos that I just can’t delete, taking up residence on my iPhone. To compensate for the hole my mother’s death left in my life, I keep every picture of my kids, even blurry duplicate pictures that somehow, in the wake of my mother’s absence, feel sacred. As the real memories of my mother faded like an old Polaroid, I became artificially attached to all the images of my oldest’s first steps and my youngest singing happy birthday to herself. “Mommy’s going to miss you so much,” I sobbed as I walked around from one side of the car to the other, barefoot in the bright July Seattle sun of our driveway.
History of this topic
My Mom Said 1 Word On Her Deathbed That Made Me Look At My Life In A Way I Never Had Before
Huff Post
I wasn’t prepared for the emotional pain of clearing out my mum’s home
The Telegraph
My Relationship With My Mom Was A Nightmare. Then An Unexpected Tragedy Changed Everything.
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