Behind the Moon, Beyond the Rain

Expressing my feelings has never been a difficult task for me. I'm kind of an outspoken girl. Since the passing of my beloved mother, I have been dealing with so many emotions and am unsure of where to channel them. I tend to express my feelings through different forms of social media. These I like to call little 'grief bursts'. They come in waves... in tsunamis rather. I used to take pen to paper a lot when I was younger and have strayed away from that, mostly because my efforts have been focused on writing term papers, and research papers over the years. However, at this point in my life, and in my grief, I need some outlet to dump all these emotions onto and the random Facebook status updates is just not where I should be doing it. I don't want to be that girl you press 'hide' on because my posts have become too morbid or too depressing (sorry if they have been, but kind of going through some heavy shit). There is so much pain and hurt that accompanies losing someone you loved more than anything. I've tried numerous times to gather my thoughts and make sense of them, but the reality is that that is an impossible task. It's like bobbing for apples, you end up tired, frustrated, and sort of look like an idiot in the process. So I've given up trying to understand anything, because there are no answers, no reasons, and to be honest I'm just fucking mad at the world for taking one of the most important people from me. I feel robbed. It is not fair. It truly isn't, and fuck the whole "life isn't fair" bullshit. I'm so over these cliche comments and remarks, because they are NOT helpful. Along with, "she's in a better place." Because really, that 'better place' is here, with her family, where she belongs. 

As most who are close to me know that I am on this emotional roller-coaster and some days I have hit every barrel turn, every up-side down loop, and the centripetal force has made my body hit every part of this stupid cart that is called life. There are even days when I have lost all sense of feeling and am just along for the ride, on auto-pilot, and then there are those days where I want to hit the eject button because I am bruised, beaten and broken. I will not apologize for my feelings because this is how it is. Straight to the point and real. 
This is what I'm told grief is, yet when people compare me to others, or to the 'norm' I get pissed. I am not everyone, and my mom sure the hell wasn't a person to be grouped together with the masses. She was someone who stood out, who captivated a room the moment she entered it. She loved the attention, but only because she loved people. She wanted to be everyone's friend, to know their life story, and to share hers. She could meet you for five seconds and I guarantee you would tell her something you wouldn't have told your dearest friend and that is because she had an aura around her that drew people to her, that made strangers trust her. She was the most compassionate person I have ever known, and I don't just say this because she was my mother, but because it is the truth. I didn't have a typical relationship with my mother as some do. My mother and I were friends. Best friends. Being away from her for long periods of time was hard. Traveling through Europe for six weeks was the longest time we ever spent apart. I cried frequently because I missed my family so much, I missed her so much. Our Skype sessions were always the two of us fighting back tears when we had to say good-bye. I never, have ever, considered this a bad thing, or a hindrance to my life. I considered this attachment to my mother a blessing and loved every second of it and valued the relationship I had with her. My family, my mother, is and always will be the most important part of my life. 

As a child, and the only girl, my mom was my partner, my friend against the BOYS, aka my big brothers. (My dad doesn't count because lets get real, I'm the ONLY girl and the BABY, so I was SUCH a daddy's girl... still am). My brothers were torturers and car rides sitting between them were awful. I will NOT get into their horrid acts of meanness, okay okay  horrid might be an exaggeration, but they were MEAN. They still can be, but I will say having two older brothers definitely teaches a girl how to fight back. So if you are one of the many that say that I am ornery, then blame them. I had to hold my own people, and I have to say I still can :P

Well, with testosterone over flowing in the Rocha household,  my mom and I got to do the girl stuff and I loved it. She was the one that made everything better. She was the typical mom that when you got hurt she would kiss it and make the pain go away. That's what I need so badly right now. Her hugs-god I would give up ANYTHING for a hug from her. She always had great words of encouragement. Her endless compassion was comforting. She was my strength when I was weak, the person whom I'd call late at night when I was struggling with school (LINGUISTICS CLASS ughhh) and she was my Jiminy Cricket when I was being "not a nice girl" as she would tell me... all too often lol. She made me want to be a better person because she loved so unconditionally and so passionately. I always questioned if I was her daughter, because we were/are very different. But, I feel her presence in things I do now and even before she was gone, and I think (hope) that I've started to mirror my mom's love and compassion as I have gotten older.

When I was a teenager I would bicker and argue with my mother ALL the time (as did any teenage girl with their mother) and I just never understood why she would ask SO many questions! She would want to know EVERYTHING. And as I was trying to figure out who I was (still working on that by the way) I just wanted to be left alone. Don't get me wrong, I loved my mother dearly, but I was a teenager with some crazy hormones surging through my body and dealing with the typical boy troubles. Reflecting back on those days I always crack a smile and laugh. I dropped a few piercings and tattoo bombshells on my parents during my angsty teenage years. Years later my mom told me that she "secretly thought it was cool!" :D Then I took her on her 53rd birthday to get her own tattoo! Which she proudly showed off as much as she could. 

When I moved to San Francisco I was a mess. I was homesick, and I missed my mom so much. That is when the five-to-seven phone calls a day started. (Those phone calls continued on till the day she passed. I always called her at lunch and at 3 p.m. when I was off work. If she didn't hear from me by 3:10, then I knew she would be calling me. I still find myself reaching for my phone on the way to my car after work). So all those incessant questions she would ask when I was in high school, I some how found myself desperately wanting to answer them when I was in San Francisco. Oh, the irony was not lost on me nor my mom. 

She really enjoyed my adventures in babysitting/nanny-ing while living in SF. For instance, the little boy I babysat for left a floater in the tub while I was on the phone with her. She found this to be rather comical. She just laughed and said "payback." I was unaware that I ever pooped in the tub, and am now regretting mentioning this little anecdote, but regardless, it was funny and I can still hear her laugh on the other end of the phone as I was freaking out about what to do.

After almost 4 years in SF I moved home and that was a difficult time for me, because I was unsure of what I wanted to do in life, but as in mom fashion, she always supported me in any crazy decision I had.
She was always there for the ups and downs. For the sharp right turns and the wide left turns I made in life. She was my designated passenger and she NEVER was a 'back-seat driver'. Always letting me find my way and holding my hand when I got nervous or insecure. She definitely helped me through so many moments in my life and I am forever grateful.

The life lesson of loss and death was not lost on me. Losing my grandparents when I was younger, and multiple close relatives, I was sadly accustomed to dealing with it all. But the idea of losing my mother, or my father, was something that I could never have prepared myself for. The idea of it only really hit me once, when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I remember when I took the phone call and she had broke the news to me, I was driving down Hawkeye and I remember balling uncontrollably because the idea that she could be taken away from me was too much to comprehend. As I walked into my parent's house I threw myself into her arms and just kept saying "I can't lose you. I just can't!" Never in a million years did I think she would be taken from me only three+ years after that. I will never be able to digest the loss I feel, it still feels like a nightmare and I'm just waiting to wake up from it. 

Tomorrow my mom would have turned the BIG 6-0. It was always something I looked forward to because we are almost exactly 30 years apart. I really wanted to celebrate with her, wanted to do something memorable. This is just one of the many milestones I will not be able to share with her. Not only is it her birthday it is her and my father's anniversary on the 18th. She was barely 21 when the got married and after these two big events this week it leads us into the holidays. Something that my mom loved. It always took her two weeks to decorate the house and transform it into "Winter Wonderland" as I called it. I always helped her bring down the heavy boxes (so many of them!) and I usually helped her put up the tree. Besides all the family love you are surrounded with during these times, I believe the holidays gave my mother an excuse to send another 1000 cards to all people she loved and cared about. This is on top of the 1000s she has sent through out the year. We all joke that Hallmark probably saw a dip in sales since my mom passed. She never forgot a birthday, an anniversary, a milestone, or just a thinking of you card. She loved reaching out to people and telling anyone and everyone she loved them. I am dreading the holiday season, dreading it. There has not been a Christmas morning in my 29 years where I didn't wake up to my mom making breakfast. I would always find my stocking on the couch and I would tear into it (it was the only thing we were allowed to open without anyone around; even though she would be upset if I started without her there :) ) She loved to be apart of everything. 

I will never be the same. It is hard to imagine my life without her. It has only been 6 months 2 weeks and 5 days since she has passed and the realization of it all is still setting in. Every day is hard, and there are moments when I will break down and lose it, and there will be moments when I am laughing and feel 'normal' again. Things will never be 'normal' but I'm trying to find strength in my family and of course my friends, whom without I wouldn't be able to get through all of this. And of course there is my Crossfit family. Yes, I am a Crossfitter if you didn't know. Who would have guessed?! Not like I talk about it... ever :D I consider my time time there as my daily therapy sessions and I'm so thankful my mom introduced me to it. Yep, my mom is to blame for my Crossfit addiction. She introduced me to Rene and Scott over three years ago now, and it has changed my life. My mom gave me so much and I'm so thankful this was one of them. 

I know this was a long blog, a long letter, entry, ramble, rant, or whatever it maybe, but it definitely was therapeutic. I may not see light at the end of all this, I'm just taking it day-by-day. Some days you will find me on the floor unable to get up, and others you will find me skipping along in Disneyland with my niece and nephew enjoying life. It depends on the day, the hour, the moment... like I said I'm on a roller-coaster and the track is forever changing. 

I miss my mom every single day, every single moment. I will miss her for the rest of my life. It is hard for me to say that my mom is in heaven, I don't know why, but it is. However, saying that she is "behind the moon, beyond the rain" sits well with me. It's the reason I have it tattooed on my side. Not only does it come from her favorite movie, but it's where I believe she is. I will forever look at the moon and stars and smell the rain thinking of her forever, and always.