Losing someone dear to us is heartbreaking. We are told it is the natural way of life. We are born, we live a full life and then we part from it. If only these words were as simple as they sound.
On January 29 of this year I lost my Mom. It left me hollow inside. It left me feeling scared. I was transformed to that little girl so long ago afraid of losing my parents in a crowded shopping mall. Remember that feeling? You thought a bad person was going to snatch you away and you would never see your parents again.
When my father passed away 10 years ago this March, the loss was difficult, but I still had my Mom. We were there for each other during that difficult time.
No matter where I was in life, I always knew my Mom was there if I ever needed her. As a typical teenager, I gave her sleepless nights but as the years went on, we came to understand one another and we became each other's sounding boards.
My Mom's passing was very sudden. She was a vibrant, active woman, full of life. In the last couple of years she even met a companion. Something she thought would never happen to her after my Dad passed away. She was happy.
We can never be fully ready for someone to leave us. I found my Mom leaving extremely difficult. I just. Didn't. Get. It. How can someone be here one minute and gone the next? I wasn't ready for this.
Days following her death, I thought about my Mom in a way of who she really was. Many questions arose. Did I really know this person? Did she keep secrets? Was she emotionally struggling with anything? Perhaps I didn't really know her. And that scared me. It left me feeling as though there wasn't enough time. I needed more time to fully know who my Mom was. But time was no longer on my side.
As I am going through the process of packing up her belongings, it feels as though more of her is slipping away. Soon, her home will no longer be a place I can come back to with a heavy heart, looking for those comforting words of my mother. What will I be left with other than her possessions?
Some say it is not the physical things that matter. They are just that - things. The memory of her will stay with me. This is true. But I need something to hold on to. I still need her. I need to hear her laugh. I need to see her in her kitchen cooking. I need her to be there to share my happiness and sorrows. I am unable to part with the fact I will never see her again.
I am just not ready for this.
One of the most beautiful things I had heard in a long time was by a priest. He said "The tear is the most eloquent way to express your love for another human being." What beautiful words indeed.