I have been dreaming about water lately and I took that to signify from my subconscious that perhaps I was ready to deal with the time that I nearly drowned as a kid. And today in therapy, we did just that, and it was one of the most intense experiences of my life. Literally coughing, feeling the water getting pushed out of my lungs, my heart pumping faster and faster to keep up. I was only three and a tiny little mite and did not deserve that experience, and yet when my therapist asked the three year old me whether she decided that she should die, I said no, and when asked why not, I replied that I was stubborn.

One of the most powerful things in hypnosis is the fact that you can talk to parts of yourself, reminding them that they are special and loved.


Just something

It’s funny how memories creep up on you sometimes. For instance, the memory about how clearly I wanted to call bullshit on my mom when she told us, after her mother’s murder, that because we never know when a loved one is going to die that she always says that we must just love one another. But at twelve, all I had was a feeling, the disconnect about what was said and what was acted upon. That love was not unconditional, it was a treat to be doled out, and ripped away as punishment.


Random Ramblings Number 1

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.

Why, Mom?!

Mom, if I could ask you just one question right now, it would be “Why?”.

Why were you so mean to me? Why did you consistently tell me and act like you didn’t love me? Why did you always throw in my face the lie that I was an argument that dad won.

It’s the week of my wedding anniversary…and this is probably the most difficult time of year for me. Perhaps, it was unreasonable of me to expect one occassion in my life to be an opportunity for you to make all the past hurts better. But you did not show the slightest interest in any of the wedding planning, until everything was organized. I had to beg you to come and shop for wedding dress fabric with me and R’s mom.  And even then you acted like it was a chore.

I know you were not a mean or vindictive or generally horrible person. So why were you all of those things to me?

And I know that I am not a bad or horrible person, so why did you send me emails telling me that I was.

I know that you had other drama with your extended family around my wedding…but you never told me this. And quite frankly, it shouldn’t have mattered. I am your daughter. Surely that should have counted as a trump card…as a reason to pay a little bit of attention to me.

At my bachelorette party you did not even greet me?! So yes, I guess I am still carrying a lot of hurt and pain around from this occassion…and maybe it was unfair for me to expect you to make me feel special around my wedding day, you had never managed it before, and perhaps you choked under pressure.

But dammit mom, I wish I could remember feeling that you loved me…and not just read the words in a card. Because those words feel like a lie when I remember these things.

And maybe I shouldn’t write this to you…but if I don’t let it out, I think it will eat at my soul. I know I will never know why.

I can hope and rely on other people’s recollections and words that you did love me…and that you were proud of me. But dammit Mom, I wish you had shown me that when I was alive.

I know we had a difficult relationship. I also know that L managed to worm her way into your life and spread her venom and was a bad influence in you sending those poisonous emails, but you were an adult, and did have control over your actions, and you chose to press send.

I know you never understood the way I pulled back and never truly let you back into my life after that, because for you it was an isolated event. But for me, it was more…I needed you to show me that I could trust you. And now you can’t.

You also can’t tell me why! But perhaps that is a blessing…it means that I can choose to see the best in you, recognize the influences of operant conditioning and believe that you did love me. You just didn’t know how to show it.

One month

Hi Mom,

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.


Random Realizations Number 1: Things That We Will Not Share Again

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.


Your relationship with your mother is the first relationship that you ever have. For 9 months, before you begin to relate to anyone else…your world exists only with reference to the woman who gives birth to you.

Even when you are an adult, even if you have cut off contact with your mother…you still have a psychological connection to her. Even if your relationship is defined by an absence of a relationship…there are still ties to her. Ties that you will never be entirely free of.

So perhaps this makes sense. The fact that even though I like to think I was partially prepared for my mother’s passing (even though it was unexpected). I was not. I don’t think anyone can be.

So for now…I am just feeling a little bit lost.