It's been more than a month since my mom passed away. I got through the first few weeks just fine. But the past 2 weeks had been unbearable for me. I couldn't sleep well, I couldn't do anything well, I couldn't even work well.
There were so many things that reminded me of my mom and put me in misery. I cried in the office's restroom, I cried in the car while driving to work, I cried in church, I cried before I go to bed, I cried everywhere!! My mind is so full of her memories & so many questions why.
My church friend dreamed of her after she died, why didn't I?
My cousin dreamed of her before she died, why didn't I?
My neighbour had a picture with her before she got into the hospital, already so skinny... why couldn't I?
Her friend bought her favorite cake before she fell into coma (though she only managed to eat a spoonful), why didn't I?
My brother & father spent a couple of nights watching her in her hospital bed, why didn't I?
I could list a hundred more "whys" here but that won't help me get ouf of this misery.
Up until the moment that she went into coma, I always thought that somehow a miracle will happen. That we would have another Christmas together and another birthdays to celebrate. But it seemed that my fear of losing her was bigger than my love for her. I thought if I stayed by her side I wouldn't be able to hold my tears from flowing all the time, and I knew that seeing me crying also hurt her so much.
I guess the start of my restless days was what my father said to me while we were talking about her: "You children didn't know how much she was in pain cause she hid it from you. She didn't want to become a burden to you or make you sad. But I knew. I was the only one that she showed her most weak & painful side that you couldn't even imagine." That words hit me to the ground.
Even now I could still feel her small hands in mine when I helped her walk to the bathroom or to the bed. But why can't I remember her hands when she was still healthy.
I could still imagine her face when she was in pain and cold and asked me to put another blanket on her. But why is it so hard to remember her smiling face when we went to the mall or tried eating in a new restaurant?
I could still picture her skinny figure in her too big pyjama when we had dinner. But is it hard to remember the time when she complained that her dress was to tight on her.
I start losing her & my memories of "the good" her. And the thought is torturing me. And it makes me even more afraid...
I guess whatever the way, no matter how long you've been prepared to accept the worse... You'll be never be ready for death. Not ever.
There were so many things that reminded me of my mom and put me in misery. I cried in the office's restroom, I cried in the car while driving to work, I cried in church, I cried before I go to bed, I cried everywhere!! My mind is so full of her memories & so many questions why.
My church friend dreamed of her after she died, why didn't I?
My cousin dreamed of her before she died, why didn't I?
My neighbour had a picture with her before she got into the hospital, already so skinny... why couldn't I?
Her friend bought her favorite cake before she fell into coma (though she only managed to eat a spoonful), why didn't I?
My brother & father spent a couple of nights watching her in her hospital bed, why didn't I?
I could list a hundred more "whys" here but that won't help me get ouf of this misery.
Up until the moment that she went into coma, I always thought that somehow a miracle will happen. That we would have another Christmas together and another birthdays to celebrate. But it seemed that my fear of losing her was bigger than my love for her. I thought if I stayed by her side I wouldn't be able to hold my tears from flowing all the time, and I knew that seeing me crying also hurt her so much.
I guess the start of my restless days was what my father said to me while we were talking about her: "You children didn't know how much she was in pain cause she hid it from you. She didn't want to become a burden to you or make you sad. But I knew. I was the only one that she showed her most weak & painful side that you couldn't even imagine." That words hit me to the ground.
Even now I could still feel her small hands in mine when I helped her walk to the bathroom or to the bed. But why can't I remember her hands when she was still healthy.
I could still imagine her face when she was in pain and cold and asked me to put another blanket on her. But why is it so hard to remember her smiling face when we went to the mall or tried eating in a new restaurant?
I could still picture her skinny figure in her too big pyjama when we had dinner. But is it hard to remember the time when she complained that her dress was to tight on her.
I start losing her & my memories of "the good" her. And the thought is torturing me. And it makes me even more afraid...
I guess whatever the way, no matter how long you've been prepared to accept the worse... You'll be never be ready for death. Not ever.
