There is nothing worse for someone who depends on her ability to write things out to be able to sort her emotional turmoils to not be able to do that. In a previous post I mention how envious I was with dad and sis who could write out what they were feeling after mom passed away. It is three weeks today since mom went home and I still can’t write. I have so much to say, not that I don’t but I can’t write it down or to be more correct type it out. I have stared at the blank Words pages countless of time I can’t count it on my hands anymore, finger poised ready to type, but nothing, all those emotions roiling in my brain desperate to come out can’t be put to words, somehow the tools of my catharsis all this troubled years failed me when I need it the most.
A lot of people won’t understand this, as shown by comments daddy and adik received on their piece of writing, 90% begged them to move on, not to dwell on the grief, that it is not healthy, and not good for Mom’s peace etc. But what they don’t get is, it is very healthy process for them, if they are able to work through their grief through what they do best i.e. writing and something selfless mom won’t begrudge, and most grief counsellor would agree it is a good thing to do. I guess people who don’t depend on writing wouldn’t get it, for most writing is something to dread not to enjoy, and most probably haven’t experience the catharsis that writing their emotions or problems could give them. It doesn’t matter, what matters is that I need it, bad. When I was talking to Phil soon after, he urged me to write, he knows it would help me more than any comforting words he could say, and since he is thousands of miles away and can’t give me the hug I needed, he knows that writing would offer me the comfort of release.
But what can I say? Everything seems so cold, so sterile, and I am numb. Reading the diagnosis on the death certificate over and over again, sepsis with multiple organ failure, a cold sterile statement that does not indicate at all the world of hurts it has inflicted on me and the family. Losing mom was something I am not ready for, during the middle of the46 days of her hospital stay, when things were looking quite bleak, Phil asked me if I was prepared, I told him the truth, I don’t think I will ever be prepared. And though outwardly I am going through the motions for everyone’s sake, inwardly I am a mess, shown by my desperate message on Phil’s Skype: -
I want mom back Hun, she is the only one who loves me no questions ask, I can do anything, be anything and she loves me
Basically that says it all, mom was truly the only person who has unconditional love for me, actually for all of us in the family, and I have lost that and it hurts and it doesn’t make sense that it all started with a stupid fall that cause no fracture and end up with me losing someone I am so not ready to see gone. She was supposed to see me married thus giving her the hope of having grandchildren – her dearest wish – and when she has fulfilled so many of my dreams, it seems so unfair that time won’t let me fulfil one of hers. What hurts was when she was first lucid in the first weeks of visiting her, she said to me almost desperately for me to get married, and I jokingly told her who is going to look after her if I do, and when she says my husband will, I sort of promise her that when she gets better I will do my best to get her that wish. Noticed I said when, not if, because I would have never imagined she wouldn’t be there.
Well I guess I have gone as far as I can today, it is a start, and though there’s still a world of hurts inside of me, as Phil say it needs time, time will make it bearable, but right now I can’t see that time would ever take the hurt away. I miss you mummy.
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