One month

Yesterday was one month. One month since I've seen my mom - or at least seen her in real life. I see her in my dreams, in my head all the time. 

It still just feels like she's on vacation. It feels like it did when I was a kid and she went to Hawaii to visit her best friend for a week. It feels like she'll walk through the door any minute, even though she hadn't been able to walk for almost two years. 

It's still hard to be far away from my parents' house (my dad's house). Even being back in Oakland feels to far. Too far from where she was, from where she is in my memories. 

I still can't remember much of her before the stroke - I know the before memories will come back eventually, but her last twenty months were so traumatic, so life-engulfing that before feels too far away. 

What I do remember is her, three days after she stopped getting out of bed, three days into sleeping almost all day long. I had to go back to Oakland for the day, so I whispered goodbye to her. Even though she was sleeping I told her that I loved her and I'd be back soon. Without opening her eyes she said, over and over again "no, no, no, no, no." It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, leaving her when she kept asking me to stay. 

Now I'm the one who wants to say "no, no, no, no, no," enough time so she'll stay. Maybe if I say it just right she'll come back.