I am starting a detoxification program this week. I hope it will help my body and soul. I’ve gained 15 pounds last two years from depression and grief. Yes, it is true; grief and sorrow make you gain weight by weighing you down.
These past weeks I feel like I am finally waking up after two years. Anyone who has ever lost a loved one knows exactly what I am talking about. The nightmare… When we have nightmares, our subconscious knows that they will end, so we still carry the comfort of disillusion a bit, knowing there is salvation sooner or later. There is waking up… In so called real life, because the nightmare of loosing someone is so three dimensional, you live through it with all your senses, and you know that end is not waking up. End is loosing that person forever. That throws you in such a state of panic and anxiety that you are trying to relive all your life in an instant. That feeling of being uprooted, dangling. That fast punch crashing your heart into pieces. And the hopelessness, oh the hopelessness is the worst. There is nothing you can do to stop the loss, nothing…But you still try and try and try...
I want to believe we go on. We go on pressing, in this life and after. I want to believe there will be a day again I will feel my mother’s warm cheeks next to mine. I want to believe that I will hear her laugh one more time, smell her scent. And frankly, I am sick of people telling me “oh but she is not dead, she is in another place where you will meet someday.” Say that we meet someday after years, will she remember me? Will she be the same person I used to have the funniest conversations and biggest fights? How can I touch her if she is only a spirit? No offense spirit world, but children need their mother’s physical touch, to grow, to understand, to comfort. And no matter how old you are, you lose your mother, you are a child again…
I miss her terribly. I miss her from a place deep in my core. It is a burning feeling that is very difficult to describe. It is not just in you, it is around you, behind you, in front of you. I tried everything to ease it, but there is no remedy to this kind of missing. Because when you miss someone alive, you just call them, or visit them, or write to them. I can’t do any of these things. I can’t simply pick up the phone and say “ Mommy, I miss you.” Even though I do, like hell…I can’t just take the plane and run into her arms. And I know that people who are trying to console me are being sweet by saying “you will meet again.” But I want my mother now…Not in 20 or 30 years, not in spirit…I want her sitting in my family room sofa, right now, actually, in flesh and blood. I want to see her loving smile, her mischievous eyes, her curly hair…I want to hear her voice with its slight twang. Not in the sometime unknown and uncertain future. Now…Now…
I know I am being a baby. I know I am being irrational and emotional. But, I am allowing myself to feel and be all of these. Because otherwise, the notion of “death” will drive me mad. I don’t get it, I don’t like it, I don’t want it. But life is a temporary joke, being played on us God knows who. Yes, only God knows who. So, I am playing along, because there are no alternatives. I can’t choose another life, I can’t end this one, I can’t be miserable forever. So, I am waking up, slowly. Because I have no other choice but to enjoy the life I have or hate it. Hate is never been a favorite subject for me. I can’t hate. So, I love. I love my life and all the people in it…I love despite the impermanence, despite the finitude, despite the transience…So, I go on. I go on leaving my mother and the 38 years of memories behind. I go on carrying the love I have for her deep in my heart. I know I am the only one will ever know how special and exceptional she was for me. I love you mommy, and I miss you dearly…
These past weeks I feel like I am finally waking up after two years. Anyone who has ever lost a loved one knows exactly what I am talking about. The nightmare… When we have nightmares, our subconscious knows that they will end, so we still carry the comfort of disillusion a bit, knowing there is salvation sooner or later. There is waking up… In so called real life, because the nightmare of loosing someone is so three dimensional, you live through it with all your senses, and you know that end is not waking up. End is loosing that person forever. That throws you in such a state of panic and anxiety that you are trying to relive all your life in an instant. That feeling of being uprooted, dangling. That fast punch crashing your heart into pieces. And the hopelessness, oh the hopelessness is the worst. There is nothing you can do to stop the loss, nothing…But you still try and try and try...
I want to believe we go on. We go on pressing, in this life and after. I want to believe there will be a day again I will feel my mother’s warm cheeks next to mine. I want to believe that I will hear her laugh one more time, smell her scent. And frankly, I am sick of people telling me “oh but she is not dead, she is in another place where you will meet someday.” Say that we meet someday after years, will she remember me? Will she be the same person I used to have the funniest conversations and biggest fights? How can I touch her if she is only a spirit? No offense spirit world, but children need their mother’s physical touch, to grow, to understand, to comfort. And no matter how old you are, you lose your mother, you are a child again…
I miss her terribly. I miss her from a place deep in my core. It is a burning feeling that is very difficult to describe. It is not just in you, it is around you, behind you, in front of you. I tried everything to ease it, but there is no remedy to this kind of missing. Because when you miss someone alive, you just call them, or visit them, or write to them. I can’t do any of these things. I can’t simply pick up the phone and say “ Mommy, I miss you.” Even though I do, like hell…I can’t just take the plane and run into her arms. And I know that people who are trying to console me are being sweet by saying “you will meet again.” But I want my mother now…Not in 20 or 30 years, not in spirit…I want her sitting in my family room sofa, right now, actually, in flesh and blood. I want to see her loving smile, her mischievous eyes, her curly hair…I want to hear her voice with its slight twang. Not in the sometime unknown and uncertain future. Now…Now…
I know I am being a baby. I know I am being irrational and emotional. But, I am allowing myself to feel and be all of these. Because otherwise, the notion of “death” will drive me mad. I don’t get it, I don’t like it, I don’t want it. But life is a temporary joke, being played on us God knows who. Yes, only God knows who. So, I am playing along, because there are no alternatives. I can’t choose another life, I can’t end this one, I can’t be miserable forever. So, I am waking up, slowly. Because I have no other choice but to enjoy the life I have or hate it. Hate is never been a favorite subject for me. I can’t hate. So, I love. I love my life and all the people in it…I love despite the impermanence, despite the finitude, despite the transience…So, I go on. I go on leaving my mother and the 38 years of memories behind. I go on carrying the love I have for her deep in my heart. I know I am the only one will ever know how special and exceptional she was for me. I love you mommy, and I miss you dearly…
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