Sunday, September 13, 2009
I made it out of Kansas (thank God) and am now back in Florida. It is nice to be back, but a lot of the 'magic' that made me love the state seems to be missing. It is either missing, or my perceptions and expectations have changed. I have not quite figured out which it is.
Memories of my mother come and go. I find myself fighting to remember her voice, her common quotes. Trying to piece together memories, promises and understand that my questions will have to go unanswered for now. I have come to understand my ability to compartmentalize emotions without thinking. It has been an effective self defense mechanism, but nothing comes without a price. Sometimes I have to ask myself if the price for feigned peace of mind is worth it.
Lately I struggle with feelings of being trapped and motionless. My life seems stagnant and that is something it has never been. Is this the effect of growing old? If so, I want no part of it. A fading star... excitement transforming into unsettled tranquility. Like standing in a crowd that slowly begins to dissolve. What point is there in living an unquestioned, unacknowledged life?
I try to have faith, I try to find answers but for every answer I think I find only more questions appear. I cannot help but wonder, from my own life experiences, what if we have gotten it all wrong? What if our belief systems are mistaken?
What if God were as close as our next dream?
Thursday, June 25, 2009
The truth of the matter is I wanted to share them with my mother. Of course all the other reasons are valid, but the motivation was to sit and talk about them with her.
I continue to do it and I am sure that somewhere it's just because my nature is to spend money (not your average jew) but it's also a routine now. A routine I continue because it gives me comfort... because I was doing it to share with someone else.
Something is missing and I notice it every time I look in the mirror. My eyes don't look alive anymore, there is a void and darkness that is physically obvious.
I don't even think I know how to grieve openly. It's been so long since I allowed myself to do that. I believe strength is required to survive and the ability to overcome any obstacle and move forward, without delay, is necessary to avoid falling prey to pain.
You certainly can't think straight, support others, or maintain your focus when you're weak and lost in despair.
I cannot even cry and I want to. I feel it, but nothing comes out. I try and remember her voice and it is like a whisper now.... it hasn't even been that long. If people could hear me repeating the things she said to me, so often, in my mind - over and over - they would think I was truly psychotic.
I am so afraid I'll forget.
I daydream of taking my mother places and doing things with her that I knew she would enjoy. Things that she didn't have the chance to enjoy for so long. I daydream of helping her, of watching her regain her sense of self and value... of her being who she was before it was lost.
It doesn't last for long and then I see her lying on the floor barely conscious... I imagine her fear as she hears the paramedics and is rushed into the hospital. I imagine the pain and stress on her body as her heart fails and as she is brought 'back to life.'
I sense the pain in being unable to speak, or move. I can feel trapped myself, as if I was there. I can imagine her screaming in her mind...trying so hard to speak....as she hears the doctors, the crying, the voices all announcing her departure.
Most of all, I can feel her heart breaking as they sat the phone next to her so she could possibly hear me on the speaker .. telling her that I was driving, as fast as I could, to get there and to just hold on. I would do something to make it better.
I lost something at 10:47am on April 24th....I feel the void that it left every moment of every day.
It is not a void that time, kind words, beautiful cliches, or happy memories will fix or fill.
When my mother's heart failed, for the last time, mine left to find her.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Some days are better than others.
I just wish I had a saved voicemail, a letter, a video... something other than pictures to help me remember her. I wish her face while she lay in the coffin wasn't my last solid visual of her.
I keep replaying in my mind, over and over, the words she would always say to me. At first, I heard them as if she spoke them. Her tone so clear in my mind.
But my memory isn't as strong as I would like it to be and slowly the voices begin to fade. So I hold onto them as hard as I can.. repeating over and over the phrases she said with so much love.
The voices have changed; no longer her they are my own.
I learned a long time ago to be strong despite what was happening to me. It became easy for me to pretend that everything is fine, when in the publics eye. Finding quick moments, alone, to quickly feel pain before putting it away again...
Life must go on, eh?
Sometimes it becomes so hard to fight the feelings of regret, anger, hurt and longing to have them back. So many things I would do differently, if only I knew you wouldn't be here right now. If I had known the voices would fade.
A friend, with very good intentions, told me that when people close to them die they view it as 'another angel' watching over them. That idea helps them to cope. If only I could be so easily comforted by the thoughts of angels and being watched over by people no longer here....
I am not so easily comforted.
Sometimes I wish I was alone... away from everything and everyone. I want to scream, fight, cry. I want to hear her voice, not mine, I want to understand.
Sleep gives me hope... I hope for dreams, motion picture memories, something to give a false sense of a different reality...but even dreams are limited for what hope do you have when you know reality will throw you back down when you awake.
It isn't easy... despite what you see.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
"Soon I will come visit you."
"Soon we will spend some time together."
"No, don't come visit just yet, we'll plan something soon."
"I love you."
"Now, as my heart breaks, I have learned how long soon can become. Not as quick as necessary, not as comforting as once thought.
I have learned that life should not be about soon, but now. That each moment is precious, each second irreplaceable.
That as quickly as your heart beats, it can break."
"What memories do I have? That while others said 'soon,' 'maybe,' or 'no' my mother always said 'yes.'
That she, unlike so many others, would sacrifice herself - without thought - to see someone she cared for happy.
She would do without, so you did not have to."
Death does not make a person become a saint and there is no one that I know who is perfect. However, what I can say is that my mother's flaws were over shadowed by her heart. A beautiful person, full of love and compassion who never learned to let go of all the hurt that life had brought her way. Her hurts turned to disease and when it was time for my brother and I to take care of the person who gave up herself to take care of us... we did a little, but not enough.
People would say that we did everything we could. They would say that you cannot blame yourself, you cannot feel guilty. I say fuck them and their petty cliche, fuck them and their chorus of "she wouldn't have changed," fuck them and their empty words of her being in a 'better place.' Who the fuck are they to say what is better or what is enough? I do feel guilty, I do blame myself and I am angry... I am so fucking angry at myself and all the people around me who could have cared more and didn't.
They did not forget how beautiful she was - they had simply forgotten her.
They forgot about friendships, they forgot to be there for someone in need.
They forgot the importance of love, support and intervention to lift someone lost in depression.
They forgot to care."
It has been over two weeks since she passed away and I still feel numb. I've tried to keep my mind occupied, simply to delay the process of coming to terms with her being gone. I still pick up my phone, with the thought to call her and then realize how I cannot. I hear her voice in my mind and have conversations about all the things I wanted to do for her. I don't want her gone, because I do not know where she is.
I am okay as long as I keep my mind occupied.
I've lost my mother, my friend, the person who has always cared for me and who I could tell anything to. I lost her before I could do all the things I wanted to ... because I was too busy with my own life. Too selfish and lost in my own world to hear her small cries for help.
I wonder if she knows how much I love her, how much regret my brother feels and how much my heart is breaking?
I hope that as you read this you take another look at your relationship with your parents. That you take the time to consider those that are lonely, hurt or fighting demons of their own. If that situation exists in your life, perhaps you may want to think of what difference a little more love may make.
Time doesn't always mend a broken heart.
Friday, March 27, 2009
While I agree, to a limited degree, with the 'ignorance is bliss' mentality - I cannot help but feel a strange sensation of tension when (in that rare moment) I take the time to play catch up on world events.
As powers shift and change, alliances become distant and countries that the majority of people never think about pick up pace in a race to flex their military muscle... I see history completing it's circle and ready to launch a new lesson our way.
I remember growing up with the threat of a nucleur war and having fall out shelters. I also remember when war became a distant thought and was limited to countries that had no direct impact on our safety.
While I never put much thought into it; it crosses my mind a bit more frequent now. Without going into the cause, such as population expansion or resource acquisition, I believe that war is an unavoidable reality. Not so much a question of "if," but "when."
I don't mean war that we read about and sit feeling sorry for the countless innocent people who live daily with the fear of bombings and invasions; but to ourselves, here. Could the American people handle the psychological impact of a missle wiping a city off the map?
Doubtful. We've been blessed (and cursed) by not having to ever deal with such realities. Pearl Harbor and September 11th being our closest encounter with such an experience -- and while we were fortunate to have a technology to end one 'war,' at an unfortunate cost, we are far from being the only nation able to show a demonstrated force today.
It is sad that peace is so hard to acquire and that tolerance tends to only last a short while. However, I guess that is just the nature of being human in a world filled with such diversity.
It worries me, though and it is my 'prediction' that as we watch situations unfold we will begin to see it take a direction straight towards us.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Who hasn't wanted someone, something, to crave? Something to obsess over. After all, weren't we designed to obsess?
So unfortunate that the hand which wipes away our tears is often the one to beat our desires and consciousness into submission. Is happiness worth the price of a forced smile?
Is love worth submission?
What void do you constantly seek to fill in the arms of another? What demons chase you into uncharted territory?
In silence so much is spoken. Peace is nothing more than a journey in your mind's eye.
Love IS our obsession.
I have always been worthy and my love you've never experienced before.
This is all I have to give.
Not much, never enough.