Ephemerality/Impermanence

I have these dreams sometimes where my mom is still alive. She’s sick, but she’s still alive. And every time I have one of these dreams, I have to remind myself as I’m waking up that my mom isn’t still sick. She’s dead, and she’s gone. Honestly, it’s the fucking worst.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about how in this day and age (2019 but not for much longer), so much of our lives is ephemeral. Instastories disappear, tweets and pictures get deleted - and even if they don’t, it’s only a matter of time until the post is pushed to the bottom of your feed or the algorithm moves on.

But generally, there aren’t many things that can’t be changed. Or fixed. Or undone. One of my favorite parts of Nora Ephron’s famous Wellesley commencement speech has always been “It will not be anything like what you think it will be like, but surprises are good for you. And don't be frightened: You can always change your mind. I know: I've had four careers and three husbands.” It used to cheer me up when I thought about the mistakes I’ve made, but lately it just makes me kind of sad. For some reason, it makes it harder for me to believe that my mom is really, truly gone. it seems impossible to me that I could search every end of the earth and still not find her. That this pain of having to go through this isn’t temporary, it’s permanent.

With this week being Thanksgiving, and now that the onslaught of the holiday season is officially upon us, it was extremely hard for me to think about what I could possibly be thankful for this year. I, of course, know how privileged I am overall, but on a visceral level I was not feeling particularly grateful for much at all. But I realized I am grateful for all the kindness that people showed me when my mom was sick and after she passed. People who checked in on me and asked how I was doing, or even just sent me a text to let me know that they were thinking of me. Despite the impermanence of everything, I will carry that with me forever.