I’ve been a bad blogger lately. I haven’t been posting and I’ve not been interacting.
It’s surprising how much loss can take everything out of you. How the little things can suddenly leave you gasping for breath and put you right back to when you first realize what you have lost.
And it hurts. I don’t think anyone who has not experienced such a loss can begin to understand it.
But, the thing is the only thing that you can do is just carry on.
We are moving soon, and everything is happening so fast. But, at the same time, it feels as though my life has stopped since the day my mom died. That I have not really started moving again.
I am uncertain about my identity at the moment. I feel like I don’t really know myself right now, which is driving me crazy because I am good at knowing who I am and where I am at.
Instead I am in limbo, and completely uncertain.
Part of me feels like the world is telling me that I should be healed already, but I know that is just paranoia. I hope it is at any rate.
I never thought that this event would be so traumatic and defining. But I guess the thing is you can’t know how something like this is going to affect you until it happens.
There are so many memories…so many little things, that I associate with mom. My 9/11 story is tied to my mom. We heard about the attacks on the radio and then we switched on the television and watched the news together on the other side of the world. Watched tragedy unfold.
It’s difficult right now. It’s at a point where I am sensing people wanting me and my family to just move on…be healed already. Re-integrate into society, stop hurting…just carry on with our lives. But I don’t think we are ready yet. Our loss is still fresh, less than six weeks old.
I think it is a complete myth that you ever heal from this kind of loss, you adapt. But I don’t think that this is an event that you ever truly heal from.
I admit that I wrote an angry post yesterday. But it was cathartic. I felt much better for admitting that I have those questions. I know I will never hear the answers, but the purpose of asking questions is not always to get answers, sometimes it is just part of adapting.
The truth is if my mom was alive, I doubt I would ask those questions. We did not have that kind of relationship.
I know that my mom and dad taught me to stop and savor my surroundings, especially outdoors in the wild. I learnt to notice birds from my mom.
For now the void is unknowable,
The void exists.
it is called many names,
it brushes this world.
Those in the void can reach through any time
with our blessing
Touch our lives,
guide us through
flashes of insight;
brush up and trigger
once forgotten memories.
Those who have crossed over
to the void do not cease to exist
for as long as any echoes
of their lives remain.
They are here.
Part of this world.
Part of the lives that we lead.
Those in the void are capable of
achieving their best.
Achieving what they intended
on this earth.
Their intentions are not hampered
by human flutterings, failings and frailty.
The void is filled with love.
The void is.
And those who have crossed over
through the veil
that separates this world
They are not truly gone.
They are in a place where
they can understand what we mean
That we loved them.
They reach out and touch us
with the love
that they wished to be able to
express when they were with us.
They send whispers on the wind
to guide us,
to remind us
that we are loved.
You died a month ago today. You took us all by surprise. I’m surprised by how much I miss you…and how many things remind me of you.
I still wear the fleece that you bought for me ten years ago. Just before you died I noticed that it had a hole in it, and the zip broke in July, but somehow, now, I can’t bear the thought of tossing it away.
This month has been rough, and I have cried a lot. I have also cried in a lot of places…in the shower, in airplanes, at the airport.
I think today was quite rough on Dad, there were some tears when we were having our now daily skype chat. We’ve probably spoken more on Skype in the past two weeks then we had in the past two years.
You know, I suck at writing letters to you. But of course, you know that…C, was always a much better correspondent then me.
There is so much that I wish that I knew…I think the song that most fits how I am feeling now is Jimmy Eat World’s “Hear You Me”. Especially, about thinking that I might get one more chance, and not knowing what you think of me.
I miss you more than I can express…and I wish that I had more understanding of what you went through with your mom and dad. I wish that we had a chance to make our relationship a bit better.
I know you always did your best when you were raising me…and I know that I was a difficult child. And I know that you loved me…I hope you know that I love you too.
I miss you mom.
But sometimes there are things that blindside us, that nothing can prepare us for.
—Three minutes by Widowspeak
One of the things that I keep getting surprised by is the number of times that I find myself thinking or realizing things that I will now never be able to share with my mom, and I am blindsided by the fact that my mom is gone from this world…forever.
I mean my mom and I were not close…but I did share a number of memories and experiences with her, and these are just some realizations that I have had over the past couple of days:
- The realization that she will not see the photos from our trip to Washington D.C. later this month. (especially visiting the Smithsonian institute).
- The fact that I will never play Zoë Keating’s cello music for her…I’m sure that she would have enjoyed it. My mom was a big fan of classical music.
- The fact that she will never tell me about the behaviour of the African Wood Hoopoe’s in her garden again, or tales of other birds that have come to visit in her garden.
- The fact that I will never buy her another book for her birthday.
- We will not recount camping adventures together.
- Nor will I be able to tell her tales of my diving exploits.
- There will never be another breakfast together. (My mom and I had a lot of seriously awesome breakfasts together).
I read in a book about grieving the loss of your mother that you get to choose which memories to keep in your mental and emotional scrapbook…and I think today I am preserving the memories of things that we shared and of our common ground.