Mourning the undead

I have tiptoed around the idea of writing about this.

But here we are. 5am coffee in hand, kids are sleeping, and I am alone with my thoughts once again.

How often do you speak with your parents? Siblings? Family in general?

I always thought I’d grow up and be super close with family. That my mother would annoyingly stop in to just visit. That my dad would call me and check up on me, or invite me over for Sunday dinners. That my sisters would just come by to hang out.

But that’s not the case.

Life gets busy. Calls never get made, and dinners never happen.

I honestly don’t remember the last time I spoke to my mother, let alone saw her. But she’s in another province. As is my sister, who is busy and runs her own business. So I get that making time for family is a challenge.

My dad and step sister are one town away.

And honestly? It’s a lonely feeling.

I don’t know at what point family time became secondary. We just let life blow past us. And the kids get older, moments get missed. Faces are barely recognized. We are aging. And you know what? The window of time just gets smaller and smaller.

As a co-parent, my time is divided up into every-other-week. I live bi-weekly if you will. One week we have a full house with four kids running around, and practices, and dinners, and coordination of daycare and school pickups. And then one week of just a toddler – a week when I work overtime at the office. You become hyper focused on survival; just getting from one week to the next. Taking time out is a challenge since you’re running such a tightly held together ship.

But then you blink and a year has gone by.

And you look around, and the memories you have of family are just the ones from childhood. Nothing beyond.

And it hurts.

I suppose the road to reconnection goes both ways. It’s a phone call out. It’s a text. It’s a branch out to say, “Hey, how ARE you?”

It’s taking the reins and demanding a relationship.

Maybe you’re in the same boat? Maybe you have allowed someone to phase out of your life and you are wanting to reestablish a connection? Maybe someone has left your life, still very alive, but you have to go through the motions of letting go.

Maybe you, too, feel a sense of loss; a sense of mourning for the undead.

It’s HARD, my friends. It’s fucking HARD. You’re not alone in your thoughts. I’m with you on that one. Letting go of someone when you don’t know if you should fight for them, or just move on. If you should try to make new memories with them, or go make your own.

It’s not an easy decision, nor is it a simple answer.

I guess my point to all this is to say: I get it.

One thought on “Mourning the undead

  1. I’ve seen how having kids can really become an eye opener, not just for you as a person but for who you choose to be your friends. I have been lucky that majority of my friends now have kids that we can all relate to more now on a different level. All but one of my friends; single and no where ready to settle down for a family. I’ve held on to this relationship for an entire year and I I think I was more hanging on to my pre baby self more than her as a good friend. It became hard to relate and talk. But I gave all the little bit of energy I had left in my days to try to keep our friendship strong , until my first Mother’s Day came along and all my friends but her messaged me “Happy Mother’s Day” and instead talked to me about her new bf. Something so simple as 3 words she couldn’t give me. At that moment all the energy I have been giving her was really meant for someone else. I wouldn’t say I am mourning our friendship and my pre baby self but more learning to let go to make room for new memories.
    I feel you girl ❤️


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