Alone, for the first time

Beth left today, after being with me for three weeks. We cleared out almost everything in Mom's apartment, so it's just the things no charity will take: the particle board bookshelves & computer desk. In the last week I started the paperwork, filed with Register of Wills, cancelled more subscriptions & her phone, had her mail forwarded (or it will be in 2 weeks), registered with IRS for an Estate Identification Number. If it hadn't been Veterans Day with banks & PO closed would have gotten more done, but might as well have something to do Monday. (Eye roll here, as what I really want to do is absolutely nothing for at least 2 days, plus still need to get my flu shot.) All that remains in the apartment are the necessities needed in case of being there a couple hours waiting for a pick-up: an old office chair that will be trashed, towel & soap in the bathroom (leaving some TP, of course), small microwave. Was able to stop at the really good pharmacy and find a better device for my knee, which is still hurting. 

So, now I'm alone for the first time since Mom died. I had a good cry, which was a first because I was just too busy before and don't like to cry in front of people. My thought was that, having stored it up for two weeks, the sobbing would go on for a while, but it was weirdly short. I'm really not sure why, but having a sneaking suspicion it will recur. People tell me that, especially following their mother's death, the loss never completely goes away and periodic crying will be the norm for a while. 

There are more of her things which have been incorporated in my house, and it's just weird seeing them here. Like the cross stitch sampler I made for her in high school which proclaims 'Each dawn is a new beginning', it's temporarily replacing a painting in the living room. She had it hung so it could be seen from her bed every morning, and my thought is to do the same. One year on my birthday she bought me a wood duck figure, but she loved it so much I just let her keep it, it's on my bookshelf with good memories, but seems out of place. Much of her cobalt blue glass collection is on top of the bookcase, my front bedroom has a real bureau and her favorite lamp. It's a jolt to see all these things I so associate with her home now in mine. I know that as time goes on they will be a comfort, but right now it just seems wrong. How long before the 'comfort' emotion kicks in, rather than the confusion they currently create?

I keep looking at the pile of boxes in the dining room area with things that either I couldn't bear to throw out yet, have a need for or are just plain nostalgic. As said before: I'm being very gentle with myself, as tomorrow it will only be two weeks since her death. I've been grieving the loss of my mother due to the ravages of old age and disease for years, but was still able to talk with her and get a big smile in greeting. I'm so very glad we had those final weeks together, because it changed our relationship for the better. That was the real blessing in all of this, one which many people aren't able to receive. 

Yet, the truth is that my Mom is dead, and that is still very new and (repeated word) surreal.