Moments

There are moments in a persons life which change who we are. Losing my father was one such moment. I held onto my anger, guilt and resentment for so long that I lost sight of who I once was. I find that old person unfamiliar, a distant memory, almost like a friend that you once held dear and have now almost completely forgotten barr a few fleeting memories.  The loss of my father had a profound impact on our family, especially my mother, who, after many years spent tirelessly devoting all her energy in trying to protect him from his illness and any amount of germs that could possibly send his health spiralling. After he passed away I could see an overwhelming amount of conflicting emtions in us all, relief that he was now longer in pain, anger that he became ill to begin with, resentment that he wasn't able to fight for the right to live into a deserved ripe old age. In my mother I saw relief, but I also saw deep seated guilt, as though she had somehow failed my father. My mom was always a quiet reserved woman with incredible inner strength and it was terrifying to see the defeat in her eyes, as if she felt she was to blame. Over time, as with all of us, we learnt to deal with the reality of what fate had dealt us, that nobody was to blame, that we were allowed to live, be happy, laugh and smile. Mommy started smiling again, even when she was diagnosed with Colon Cancer, I will never forget the casual call to let me know what the doctors said, no worries she told me, its not her time yet.  And she was right, it was discovered early, the procedure to remove the vicious disease was a success and all that was required was monthly checkups and tests to ensure it never returned. I watched her slowly find herself again, smile more often,  she started getting involved in the church and crocheting baby shoes, bini's, bibs, the most beautiful intricate designs you have ever seen,  she started planning her future, she was finally starting to find her place in the world. And then she was gone. A good friend sent my brother and I a letter a few days later, I will never forget it, he spoke fondly of her and had spent a lot of time chatting to her over the months prior to her passing, they spoke of our family, her life, his life, her aspirations and how proud she was of her children.  His words brought tears to my eyes, in fact the mere thought of them still does. He told us that he believed she was in a good place when she left us, that she knew we would be able to stand on our own feet and take on the world and whatever it threw our way head-on. She left knowing we would be OK. In the wake of the loss of her I am starting to realise my own strengths, and weaknesses, I grew weary and insecure after she passed away, I took every word spoken of me to heart and deeply resented anyones opinions of me or my family, I withdrew from the world after she passed, but I did not have the same anger and guilt I was burdoned with my father.  Some may not understand why I write this, let alone share it, but for 5 years I kept my emotions under lock and key, I took the anger out on those I loved, my boyfriend somehow stood by me through thick and thin, I will never know how he did it, he showed compassion that I have never experienced before and when the light started showing again he proposed. I write this because I know somewhere in the world is someone like me, who loses sight of themselves in the midst of all the grief and anger. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.  I last spoke to my mom a year ago, today, but I can still hear her laughter and her voice.