My Mother just died.
And since I know writing helps you understand and process traumatic things I am writing about it here. I know that no one reads this blog. I'm a nobody here. There is safety in that.
No one talks about death. Have you ever notice that? I really fucks me off. Death is such a huge part of life, but we don't talk about it. What is wrong with us? We're all just expected to magically figure out how to cope with it when it happens. There should be a class at school that focuses on what to do when your Mum dies. When you open up your first bank account as a kid, a prerequisite should be the completion of some sort of online grief management course that nudges you to remember what you learnt during your 'What To Do When Your Mum Dies' class. Any major life stage should require a refresher in preparation for your Mother's death. Finishing high school, still have a Mother? Please complete this 'Preparing for your Mother's Death' six week online course. Buying a house, still have a Mother? Congratulations, you're one of the lucky ones but please fill in this form to provide an outline of your personalised plan for how you'll cope when she does die. Hating your job and feeling completely lost in life, still have a Mother? Don't do what you normally do and call her. Instead follow this guided meditation to self-sooth so you're prepared for when your Mother doesn't exist in this realm anymore.
How can something so big, something so overwhelming just be ignored by everyone? I don't understand it.
One minute everything feels normal. The heart of your family, your Mum, is there. Yes, she's not well, but she is still her; kind, caring, offering unconditional love that only a Mother can offer. My Mother was a magical powerful being. I miss her so much. Even though you know she is disintegrating every day, that she is literally wasting away into nothing, she still manages to support you like only she can. And she does all this while also tending to the sutures that hold the rest of the family together.
But seconds later she is gone, and you know you'll never experience that unconditional love again, and the sutures have ripped and the thin brittle threads that kept the now heartless family orbiting in some kind of stable pattern disintegrate with her disappearance. We're all flung into anti-gravity with no control of our trajectories. All getting further and further away from each other.
It wasn't until my Mum died that I realised how much I was doing to keep the peace in our sutured together family. I loved my Mum so much I wanted to protect her from any hurt. I didn't want her to feel any guilt or shame. She did the best she could, I am confident of that. So I did a lot of masking and pretending that everything was alright. But it's not alright, it hasn't been alright since I was a kid, and now that she's gone I don't have to protect her anymore.
I know life is unfair. I know being a female in this world is fraught with suffering, placation, making ourselves small so as to not cause a fuss. I accept that, I've accepted that for all my life. However I also take great solace knowing I chose a life my Mother could not choose for herself and that she was really proud of me for that. So now, in my Mother's honor I will fight. I will fight quietly and persistently through the stories I write.
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