120 Weeks of Betrayal: Living Without Mum

Mum, I feel betrayal in continuing to live

to carry on in a world no longer has you in it

a betrayal comes in each moment you cannot share

Ma, 120 weeks, that is how long it has been since you unexpectedly left this world, and not a single one of those damn weeks has passed without the heavy weight of your permanent absence, grief has many layers, pain, longing, and a sense of loneliness that words cannot fully describe, but what surprises me most is the emotion I have had to wrestle with daily - betrayal, a feeling that somehow, by continuing to live, I am betraying you, nonetheless life demands that I keep moving ahead, since there are responsibilities to meet, people to see, and things to do, and yet, it feels like a betrayal to your memory, a betrayal to the bond we shared, to the life we created together

Ma, time has moved forward, dragging me along with it, but your unanticipated absence is still a damn gaping wound that refuses to heal, as grief is a relentless companion, and one of its cruellest tricks has been leaving me with a deep, unshakable sense of betrayal for the last 120 weeks, betrayal is not a damn word I ever associated with love or loss before, but now, it seems to define so much of my excruciating experience, and I feel it in everything I do, every step I take, every breath I draw, without you, how can the damn universe go on? How can I go on? It is as though I have been living a damn alien life, that is not mine, a life that you were supposed to be part of

Ma, people say time heals, but for me, time feels like a damn thief, every week that passes takes me further away from the last time I held your soft hand, heard your distinctive voice, saw your cheerful smile, or was in your charming presence, every moment of my life since you were gone 120 weeks ago, feels like a paradox, a pitiless contradiction, on one hand, I know that life does not wait for my mourning, no matter how much I wished it would, but on the other hand, I cannot help but asking, if I keep carrying on, am I leaving you behind? If I keep building a life without you, am I forgetting the one I had with you? Yet, every ordinary act of living feels like a betrayal to you

Ma, continuing to live without you, feels like the ultimate betrayal in the past 120 weeks, as you were the heart of my world, the lady who gave me life and taught me how to cherish it, you were my anchor, my guide, my biggest supporter, but in your absence, every sunrise I witness, every morning when I open my eyes, and stepping into a damn new day, I feel the sting of betrayal, and it feels like a silent acknowledgment that life goes on without you, but how can it? How can the world keep spinning, when yours stopped? How can the seasons keep changing, and the clock keep ticking, when the person I loved most, when someone, so essential, so irreplaceable is gone?

Ma, grief has this mysterious way of making the simplest things feel so unendurable, even something as fundamental as breathing feels like the greatest betrayal of all, as you are no longer here to take those breaths, and yet I am, it seems to me an injustice, that I am here, going through the motions of life, when your unique life was cut short suddenly 120 weeks ago, I suppose this sense of betrayal stems from how deeply I loved you, so your absence feels so unnatural, that continuing without you, feels like I am dishonouring that love, I am turning my back on your memory, or I am erasing you from my future, and these thoughts, break my heart in ways I never imagined

Ma, perhaps the damn hardest betrayal is the slow, inevitable passage of time, it has been 120 weeks without you, every milestone, every new chapter, is torturous, because you are not here to share it, holidays, meals out, new places, these were the moments you used to love, but now, there is always a knot of ache in my chest, every sunset, every breathtaking view, every new experience, feels like a silent accusation, how dare we enjoy these things, when you should be here, seeing these beautiful places, laughing with us together? Every photo, every empty chair, every new memory, feels wanting and incomplete, like a betrayal of the close-knit family, we once were

Ma, 120 weeks on, the world expects me to have “moved on” by now, but moving on feels like the deepest betrayal of you, who was my everything, as if I am accepting a life that no longer includes you, yet, grief does not listen to reason, it does not follow rules or logic, as much as I feel this betrayal, I also realise that your love was too powerful to be confined to the past, maybe living my life without you is not a betrayal after all, in fact, it is the greatest way to honour the life you gave me, it is a continuation of you, by living fully, by embracing the world the way you always loved life, its beauty, its messiness, and its surprises, even if it feels impossible for me to do right now