notes on a happening

It is impossible to describe, but so undeniable that I still struggle to put it into words. And when it finally comes out all I feel is anger. I am angry for many reasons and it is an emotion I didn’t think would come so easily and stay for so long. I am angry because acquaintances look at me with pity and think thank god it’s not me. I am angry because some friends have abandoned me, treating me as if I have some communicable disease, like they can catch Loss of a Loved One and other friends, although they play with being there, act irritated and cold when I mention it, like keep it to your self and save it for your therapist. It’s impossible because I can’t keep it to myself. It’s become so much a part of me that I breathe it, there isn’t a moment that I don’t think about it, a night that I don’t dream about it. I’m angry because I feel like my mom was robbed. I wake up in the morning and feel guilty that I can take a hot shower and drink coffee and read a good book and that my mom can’t do that anymore. I’m angry at the doctors for not doing more, for not paying close enough attention, for hooking her up to machines. I’m angry when I look at my hands and see hers. I’m angry when I hear a song I know she loved. I am angry at everyone who still has a mother. I cannot explain this anger.

These are the kinds of things I would tell my mother when she was alive. I would call her and say those exact words and she would say to me something like: “Oh, honey, you’re being silly. Come home to me. Let me take care of you, you’ve never given me a chance to take care of you.” And it’s true. All she wanted was to take care of me with all of her inherent motherly instincts and I refused to give her that. I never did it on purpose; I just grew my wings early and wanted to be free before she was ready to let me go. I feel bad now for all of the times I kept her awake at night worrying because I was in some foreign country alone and even though I pretended to be brave she could see right through me, she could feel my loneliness 3000 miles away and would wait for me to call so she could use her voice to keep me company. So many times I have counted on her sweet voice for comfort. Nothing will replace that. She was my biggest supporter; she had my back even when I made noticeably bad decisions. She was never ever angry at me, even when she should have been. She loved me unconditionally, like mothers do, and she was proud of me no matter what. No jealousy, no apprehension. Just pride for her daughter. It is a special kind of love that I will never feel again and now that it’s gone everything just feels cold and unfair.

Coming back to Seattle, to work, to life, is overwhelming and iniquitous. I want to scream at everyone can’t you just stop for a second! Can’t everything just stop? Stop smiling, stop being happy, please just give me a moment to process this! Please!! I have trouble understanding why my world has stopped dead but there is still all of this movement around me. Doesn’t anyone else feel this? The day after I came back to Seattle I went into a coffee shop that I go to frequently and the barista asked me how I was, said she hadn’t seen me in awhile and involuntarily the words crowded themselves on my tongue and I said “Oh, I was out of town. My mom died.” I was immediately horrified that I said it. I realized later that I did not say it for pity or even so that someone else could hear it. I said it so I could hear it…because it feels so completely unreal and maybe if I say it out loud the words will take some of the weight I’m holding. It’s so hard to hold those words in. They weigh so much. They hurt so much. The more I say those words out loud the more common place they become.

I will not lie and say that it will be ok. It is not ok. It will never be ok. Most people will not understand that until they experience it themselves. It is not something I will get over or accept indefinitely. My heart hurts in ways I didn’t know it could and I finally understand what it means to feel like part of my physical being has been taken from me. It is only getting harder. Truth is, I would give up my entire future for just two days of the past with my mother. It means that much to me.