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Writings about death, relationships, feelings, and time |
| As much pleasure and joy as a Mother can bring is equal only to the pain and suffering experienced with her death. The death of my Mother tossed me into a place that was dark, and cold, and painful. So much pain that I became numb. I lost my sense of direction. I lost my sense of feeling and caring. I walked this earth as me, but lived in a land of no real feelings or real interest. Prior to Mother's death, I was on the road to anyplace all of the time. The children and Mother were the center of my life. No one could touch me. I was flying high. I was on a career path. Money was not an object. I was climbing the ladder of success, and at a rapid pace. Life was good. Then Mother died. Oh how quickly I tumbled down the road of despair. How out of control I became as there was nothing on this earth that could make me feel happy. Nothing or no one could give me back my joy. I was not out of control because I controlled everything around me. I said I was happy and acted the way I thought demonstrated that I was happy. I laughed when I was supposed to, and cried on cue. I was stuck in time, and I could not find my way backward or forward. One day in a professional's office, I heard the words "It is not what you are eating, but what is eating you." Uncontrollable laughter erupted from my lips. I wanted to stop, but could not. I wanted to be angry, but was not. I had a glimpse of the truth. Since Mother's death, I have gained a lot of weight. Nothing I did helped me to lose it. I was bound and destined to die of obesity and all of its associated illnesses. I was deathly afraid of reaching 300 pounds, and yet I was eating my way toward that dreaded 300 pounds and death. I went to see a nutritionist. This was my last opportunity to stop the weight gain. After talking for an hour or so, answering this question and that question and back and forth, she uttered those dreadfully funny words "It is not what you are eating, but what is eating you." How dare her say those words. Nothing is eating me. I am in control. Weeks later, those words were still haunting me. I went on vacation, and those words came with me. In the peace and quiet of the mountains, and the beauty of the countryside, I finally allowed those words to take root and grow. I looked deep inside of me, and allowed the pain of my Mother's death return, and return it did. I felt the very moment when I knew she had left me. I felt the pain of seeing her lying on that bed with no more life inside of her. I ached all over with the grief I felt knowing that she would never breathe again, and I rolled all over the floor remembering them lowering her coffin into the cold cold ground. Oh God, I felt the pain. I felt the hurt. I felt the lie that she had told me about never leaving me, and yet there she was, leaving me forever! How could she? How could I go on living without her? Did I even want to go on living? I remembered as a child how I had promised myself that should my Mother ever die, I would jump into the coffin with her and just die because there would be no more reason to live. I wish I could do that now. I wish I could just drop dead, and not feel this awful pain in my chest, my head, my entire body, but I just could not drop dead. And, they still lowered my Mother into the ground. I could not leave her out there. I did not want to leave her out there. She hated being alone, and now, now she is alone in the ground, and I am supposed to go on living. How can I? My body is too heavy for me to carry. I can’t stop crying. People think I have lost it. I must pull myself back together. I must regain my control, my strong posture and exterior. My children must not see me completely lose it. Oh God, what am I to do? With that, I bury the pain. I become numb, and I remain that way through the rest of the day. It became my façade, my way of life. I got through that time in my life, and I lived that way for another eighteen years until I heard those words “It is not what you are eating, but what is eating you!” The outburst of laughter broke the facade, and released the pain.  |
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