Loss and the human heart. I have no idea where to start. Birth and dying its our cycle of life what we do and where we go is the middle. Our feelings, perceptions and actions and people tell our tales. I wrote previously of my Dad in here but I never addressed my Mother. There were so many things i just never spoke of or said but the overall voice I silenced for years. A Mother is supposed the be the bearer of life. She is a goddess and a support, a unconditional being of light and love. Some people will never know this because not all women are meant to be Mothers. Not all want to be, and not all women can be. Just because you have a child doesn’t make you a Mother. Some of you would be wise to understand that. Seriously.
Some disturbing trends of parental actions have me here today writing this as well as a certain celebrity’s parent and her passing. This is dedicated to all who understand and some that just don’t seem to understand how deep loss can go.
I was adopted so when Mom came to get me I was born in the slums of Juarez. From the short version Mom told Dad “I want a beautiful brown child” Somehow bags were packed and Dad was grabbed and they headed over the border. Juarez is where they ended up at a clinica. Yep me and a boy were left. She chose me. 6 months later I was hers with some complications. And that day after I accepted I was hers. Even when I was told I was adopted. I figured the other Mother wasn’t able to keep me and she was never coming back.
Growing up I swear I took Mom for granted at times. I had disabilities, issues with social manners, too shy, too underweight, too fat, and bipolar tendencies. I was also having other health issues. I went from school to school and I wanted my freedom at times. Mom took everything with struggle and made the best of everything. Smoothed all my mistakes..every one of them. Even young, I flirted with the idea of going back home, after Mom took me back to Mexico for vacations. I remember looking over a wall in Tulum and seeing my reflection, my people, my eyes. It confused me. Who was I or was I just Momma’s. Was my other Mom looking for me, did she miss me? Should I come back and get her when I turned 18? Instead my loyalty was with my new Mom and so I loved her the best I could.
Every scent, every memory, every word of someone who loves you, stays. We just select what we know, what we choose to see or believe but it’s all there. Trust me. Doesn’t matter if it was good or bad because as babies we believe in pure hearts we were wanted, loved and would be. Some people never get that. But, they deserved to be loved. They deserve to know what something warm feels like, love, and caring, a kiss and to be told “Your wanted, I need you.” It’s like a flower that never got watered or left in the winter. They die. One winter Mom found a Petunia in the garden alone covered in snow. She took it in the house after digging it up. “Its so cold alone, so we will take it in and keep it alive and it will be happy in the spring” It did.
Mom was amazing. I learned how to keep a house, home, be a wife, and clean cook and learn about being a woman, education, reading, news. To care for things as I got older, and you know what they say. “Omy God. I will never be like my Mother!” Bullshit. One thing my Mother had was feelings. Feelings like 6th sense. I swear she knew I was gonna do some godawful shit BEFORE I did it. When I started having senses I knew I was going crazy. One night I woke up terrified and ran down to find Mom. I had a awful dream she died. She fell asleep and died. I found her and was trying to call someone to help and I was panicking. The numbers 1041 were the only numbers I remembered. Coincidentally She died in October and was born in 1941. How was I to know being a child that everything after that dream, was leading up to something so terrible you just could not imagine. I did my best to always be near her. I told her the dream but she dismissed it later. All I wanted to do was be around her with her and sleep next to her. How could I ever explain that I knew something would go so wrong. It was also like the day I met Dad in Philly, I went out in the sunshine after lunch, after one of his yearly visits and I knew I was never going to see him again. And I never did. Things like this are strange and hurt your heart.
I wasnt there the time that Mom died. I was living in a program to help my behavior. A friend who also passed was there told me not to pick up the phone. I picked it up. And I knew. Mom died of Lung cancer. I was numb and walked around Philly for hours doing nothing. Before she passed we had a talk for hours about life. Everything your Mother ever said falls into place. All memories come at once. Your mind cant shut it off. I felt like I was going crazy. not sleeping, not eating, depression and screaming at people, crying for hours, walking blindly everywhere. Mom had a beautiful funeral and I was left not knowing what to do.
Loss of a parent is very hard. Someone we know bad or good is gone. A cycle of caring or not. If you know in this case you were loved its like an earthquake right in the center of your body. You cant breathe, cant inhale. Worlds are gone. Emptiness is the void. Letters like diamonds all over the ground. Materialistic things mean nothing in the end. A ring, necklace, book, photograph, letters or a shirt. They are some of the things we keep. Crying for hours does nothing. You still will never see them and you can wish but it wont. 20 years later I have accepted Mom as gone but there are days when I need her. Dad was well known all over but it was his smile and work that lit up rooms and made people think, explore and love and admire. Mom’s love and loyalty and social understanding gave others confidence to be themselves. To reach above what they could to be better. Its like throwing rose petals of love and everything positive all the time and people get a piece of it. Now there are no rose petals. Only what we remember and when we reach out empty air.
Losing something so close in any status family, a love is terrible and the lasting effect is years. People feel it more or less. We cant know what is going on in hearts. We can only try to be there and try to be accepting and understanding with loss. We dont have much time. So we should try to patient, loving, kind and make every memory count.