Six Months Without My Loving Mum

Six Months Without My Loving Mum

In shadows cast by sorrow's veil

I walk the path of a motherless tale

My Beautiful Mum

Ma, you had been gone for 6 months now, even though that does not quite seem possible, I am still grieving for you, yes, still, grief and I have been having an exceedingly unhealthy relationship, I let grief stealing my willingness to endeavour, as it made me simultaneously fear tomorrow, yet feel desperate to live my life, since I have been kept waiting to turn the corner, to arrive at new places, where I would shrug off everything that hurt, never have to feel it or relive it all again, unfortunately, this is not how we are hardwired, it is not how we are made, anyhow, that is not going to happen on this side of eternity at all

Ma, but yes, still, when my entire world and my whole life were cracked in half as delicately as an egg, but as devastatingly as an earthquake, when I crushed down so hard, it caused me to question everything, even my own existence, and grief has been filling areas, taking up space, sucking out the air, and leaving no room for anyone else, as grief and I being left alone, we sit together sullenly in the corner, watch everyone carry on around us, we smoke cigarettes and we cry constantly, we stare out the window regardlessly in the distance, and we trudge through the cavernous locales aimlessly searching for a way out

Ma, 6 months for grief is just the blink of an eye, apparently, there are stages to grief, or at least that is what is rumoured, but the brutal reality is, grief does not know it is supposed to come in stages though, instead, grief has been a constant companion, as it tears down my facade, it wrecks my life, it ebbs and flows and it walks out casually, and then returns soon after to do it all over again, can change from a dull ache to something much more powerful in an instant, sometimes for no obvious reason, therefore, this is not the simple linear grief of moving on, and it is not about the stages, but it is about feeling the grief

Ma, grief and I met 6 months ago, and I am not even attempting to pretend it has not made me into someone I do not know right now, I have never been the same ever again, the only thing I am so damn sure of is that you are gone and I am still mourning, yes, still, it showed up the dreadful moment you, the one and only person who knew me best, so suddenly and so unexpectedly slipped out of my life, ever since that awful moment, my heart has broken into millions of pieces, so much so that, I wish that I went with you at times, not because I loathe my life, but for the reason that I want so abominably to see you again

Ma, grief has been filling the massive void you left, it has been a force and I am swept up in, it has been so damn possessive, and it does not let me go anywhere without it, as our unwholesome relationship has made me want to change, yet nonetheless stay exactly the same, because I cannot stand to look at the familiar things around me, I see you missing in those places, and I also cannot bear the thought of filling my time with new people in the time I had always instead spent with you, thus I have been wanting to be the daughter you knew, and living the life you remembered, maybe just in case you came back

Ma, 6 months on, I have learned that grief is love that is trapped, and it has been notifying me that I am less whole now, I have been let it rupturing, when it overwhelms, overpowers, and overcomes me, so be it, there is utterly nothing I can do about it, especially, it seems I have been fumbling around for a light switch in the pitch dark, I just aim to not let it making me bitter, I try to call it for what it is, and understand it, yes, it is still going to happen, there is only soothing it, never removing it, so it just is what it is, because I am not an anomaly, I am not the exception, I am a person who loves and is merely doing my best