The Unhealed Heart: 38 Months Without My Darling Mum

The Unhealed Heart:

38 Months Without My Darling Mum

Mum, my broken heart remains, but within its cracks, it is the place

where you still live, forever loved, forever missed, forever mine   

My Beautiful Mum & Me

Ma, it has been 38 aching months since the world as I knew it came to a sudden end, time, people often say, is a great healer, but they do not known this kind of love, this kind of loss,  the kind that reaches beyond time, beyond life, beyond words, because I have learned that there are certain wounds that time cannot touch, it only stretches the distance between the last moment I saw you and the next moment I wish I could, my heart, in its stubborn, brutal truth, it seems, is on strike, as it has flatly refused to perform the miracle of healing without its most essential component - you, and the scar tissue that tries to form, is repeatedly torn open by the sheer force of your absence every single day

 

Ma, the world speaks of closure, but there is no closure, when I lost a foundational pillar of my universe, there is no door to shut because the entire house is built around you, in those 38 months, life has continued, the days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years, but time does not know how to heal my heart, that has lost its home, as a part of me, remains still, frozen in that one devastating moment I learned you were gone, the moment everything warm, safe, and bright was ripped away, I still remember that awful day, the shock, the disbelief, the silence, it split my world in two, the life I had with you, and the life I have been trying to face, and survive without you

 

Ma, others call it grief, but that word feels far too small for what it really is, because it is not just sadness, it is a reconfiguration of my existence, it is waking everyday to the realisation that I can no longer feel your love, hear your laughter, or see your smiling face, in the early days, the pain was so acute, so violent, it had a presence of its own, a shrieking siren, that drowned out all other sound, a constant, nauseating vertigo, and I expected that, what I did not anticipate was the long term rebellion of my heart, that simply will not, cannot, move on without its missing piece, as I have been carrying this brokenness like a relic, sharp edges and all, heavy with the weight of a zillion unsaid I love you

 

Ma, even now, 38 months later, the wound, raw and gaping, remains, as the ache still finds new ways to reveal itself, because my heart is not a broken bone that can be mended, it is the very organ that pumps life through me was rewired on the day you left, and it operates currently on a new, permanent frequency, the frequency of your absence, therefore, to say my heart is broken is an understatement, it is a ruin, a sacred, desolate site, where a great love once lived, but what if this wound is the shape of you? Or what if this fracture is where you live now? Maybe healing is not about mending the break but it is about learning how to live soulfully with the cracks, letting the love shine through 

 

Ma, for 38 months, I have been told that, how strong I am, how beautifully I have managed to survive the unimaginable, but people do not see those moments when I crumble, when I sit in the silence of your absence, and feel like a child again, lost and longing, every breath still has a trace of grief in it, maybe strength is not about being unbroken, maybe it is about learning to carry the break, courageously, it is waking every morning knowing you are here no more, still choosing to face the day, it is standing when my heart wants to collapse, and continuing to love in a world that has lost its centre, and I rather live a million lifetimes with my broken heart than to have never known your love at all

 

Ma, this refusal to heal is not a lack of effort, but a biological insurrection, as your loss was an amputation, I had to learn to live with the phantom limbs, with the irreversible alteration of my very structure, I adapt, but I am undeniably different, because my heart knows, on a level deeper than conscious thought that its counterpart is gone, without you, the system is faulty, the code is corrupted, in the last 38 months, I have existed in the world, talked about you, cried for you, honoured your love, and forced myself to show up for life, as I must, but inside, is this alarm of a security set-up, that knows something invaluable were stolen, and now, the music of my life, plays in a key, you never heard

 

Ma, at 38 months, I wish I could tell you that I am fine, that I learned to live without you, but that would not be true, my heart is still broken, as fundamental as it was on the first day, as it refuses to heal, maybe it will remain this way for all my days, to pretend otherwise, would be the real betrayal, and to slap a bandage of false comfort over this cavernous loss would be to disrespect its magnitude, if my heart must stay broken for you, then I will let it bleed, I will live with this loyal, loving, unhealed heart, proudly, painfully, endlessly, because it is my most honest monument to you, as to love you was the greatest honour of my life, and even in your absence, that love remains the truest thing I know