60 Weeks Without My Darling Mum

My grief is the knowledge that

my dearest mum

who loved me like no other

is physically present no more

Ma, 60 weeks ago today, that dreadful phone call that delivered the most horrendous news of your unexpected and abrupt passing, felt like a sledgehammer to my heart and my soul, since one moment, you were here with us, but the next, you were gone, without a warning, and the utter shock and total disbelief became my first companions, on this prolonged and so damn unwelcome journey of grief

Ma, your sudden loss brought a cascade of unanswered questions, each more painful than the last, Why did this happen? Could it have been prevented? What could I/we have done differently? How come you are here no more? The lack of closure and the constant "what-ifs" has been haunting my thoughts each and every damn day, for the past 60 weeks, thus, it makes my grief all the more painful

Ma, before you were stolen from us, 60 hellish weeks ago, our lives had a certain flow, and had its own rhythm, a rhythm that was predictable, steady, and harmonious, because your nurturing and adoring presence was an essential part of that rhythm, a constant comforting melody in the background of our life, but your loss left me in a space, where the beat of the world feels out of tune with my heart

Ma, your unanticipated and unforeseen absence, have been disrupting and shattering that familiar cadence of my everyday existence, in the last 60 weeks, it has been as though the music instantly stopped, let me in a state of discord, and in a world of profound silence, as the routines and rhythms, I once knew, now feeling foreign and distant, through the darkest night, through the grief-stricken days

Ma, as I have been trying to find my path through those 60 weeks of my grief journey, and to face a new tomorrow, even the most mundane moments, carrying the greatest weight of our disconnection, as I have been acutely feeling this damn disconnection, with a yearning for normalcy, but normalcy, I have come to understand, is forever altered, so to discover a new melody, has been a taxing task

Ma, in the midst of my deepest sorrow, everyday activities, once fixed and effortless, have now becoming a source of dissonance, the simplest tasks, from getting dressed to eating a meal, have been a smarting reminder of the absence of your physical presence, it has as if the harmony of our daily lives, has been replaced by a cacophony of jangle, left me feeling out of sync with the world around me

Ma, the loss of you 60 weeks ago, created a silence in the rhythm of my life I once took for granted, a beat was once so familiar, now feels uneven, as if a vital instrument has missing from the orchestra of life, so precious memories became my ally in this journey, like a soft echo of the past, allowing me to reconnect with you, even only for a brief moment, and it is the bridge between what was and what is