Countdown to Turkey Dinner

I'm trying like crazy to distract myself.
Because as another bereaved mother stated today, "It does not get easier with time, as so many people have said".
So these last few days moving towards the big family gathering, I've been cooking big meals, trying new recipes, immersing myself in news, politics, music, art...I've been logging too many hours on Netflix, Youtube, "pretend" internet shopping (where you fill the cart with all your wanties, but never actually pull the trigger).  I've been painting, collaging, drawing, and writing up a storm...anything to fend off this inevitable jealousy, that is so real and so thick. Picture me, camped out in Starbucks for hours, hunched over a pile of paper and leather notebooks, with a heap of art supplies spread out in a semi-circle around me.   I'm trying to be a good person, and rise above, but in the end I sink back, exhausted.  I'm just a mom who wants her girl.

It does not get easier with time. The loss of Cory still fills my world.  Some days, it's buried under routine and busyness, but it's always there, just under the surface, and some days -like today- it's the loudest voice in my head.

And so here comes the stupid holiday that magnifies this loss, as if it's not big enough already.  I want to hide, but I know I have to go to be with my parents and part of me wants to, I love them so much.  The hard part will be to see everyone else who is alive and flourishing...there will be job talk and house talk and wedding talk...maybe future grand baby talk.  Each conversation about another child's steps through life will feel like such a blow to my flesh and Cory's face will rise up...what would she look like now?  What would she be doing?  What would her plans be?

The unfairness of it all rises up and with it,brings the anger and rage.  I'll smile tightly in all the right places.  I'll banter because I'm pretty good at that, but it will be killing me inside.  My mom's incredible dressing that we all fight over, especially the crispy corner pieces, will sit in my stomach like a rock.

"The hardest part is letting go of your dreams."
Yes, and watching others get theirs.  Where are my girl's engagement pics?  Where is her handsome young man who is kind and funny?  Where is her little diamond to wink in the sunlight when she talks with her hands while sharing a funny story?  Where is her cramped kitchen with the hilly linoleum floor?   Where is the joy she should be experiencing to never have to say goodbye again at the end of the night?

The dress?  Sure, she should have that.  Walking her down the aisle?  I have dreams about it to this day, certainly, but marriages fail...
so I grieve for her just that feeling alone.
Where is her shot to put herself all in with another person?  Where is her "no one else will do" big love of her life, even if it's not one to stand the test of time?  Where is that for her?  Why did she get cheated out of that experience?
I'm not completely selfish, I don't just grieve the experiences I don't get to have, I think all the time about the ones she didn't get to have.

It's a lot to swallow.