Introducing Shereen R
picture by yewenyi
On Loss
It was time. This was actually happening. I had known it was coming, but was not prepared, not ready. I wanted to stop it, turn back the clock, do something, but it was out of my hands. It seems that sometimes you have to just give yourself over to the moment, ride the wave, feel the trepidation, relinquish control.
With a few more laboured breaths the light left her eyes and she was gone. Looking down at her now empty shell I could feel my heart beating fast, and I knew that hers was now still. I waited for the wall of grief to hit me, to feel the tears come, but I felt nothing. Numb. I had just witnessed the conclusion of a life, as natural as birth, breath, love, pain…. shouldn’t I feel something?
I was surprised to notice that the ravages of disease had disappeared from her face. She looked so relaxed, so calm, and I was reminded that she was beautiful. Without that veil of pain she once again looked like my mum, and I was able to remember who she was before tests, bloods, sickness and waiting ruled our every day. I was relieved it was over, and that she had finally moved on.
I realised that I was holding her limp hand, and I could still feel her warmth, and it crossed my mind that maybe I could call her, shake her, and she would come back. But in my heart I knew that it was over and a new phase of my life had begun.
As I let go of her hand I felt the severing of that final link, like the cutting of an umbilical cord. I could now understand why babies cry when removed from a mother’s womb, in pure grief for that physical connection that is uniquely maternal. Now for me the emotional connection was severed too.
I knew that once I walk away, turn my back, leave the room, I will need to acknowledge that it is time to commence a life without my mum, but for now I want to stay, as though I can freeze time and put my new life on hold. Just for now. I don’t want to learn how to grieve, how to feel anguish, how to function whilst carrying the memory of this experience. I’m not strong enough!
But I had just lived through the unthinkable, and survived. I was strong already! She was gone, and I am still here, and my kids need me, just as I had needed my mum. As I gazed at her still face, I silently thanked her for teaching me to love, and promised I would pass on all her life’s lessons to my kids. Now it was time for me to build on all she had given me, so that I could be for my kids what she had been for me. I could feel the weight of the responsibility now in my hands, and I knew I was ready after all.
With a heavy heart and an open mind, I said goodbye, placing a final kiss on her cool forehead. I slowly left the room, reluctant but resolved, to greet the new day.
Shereen’s personal growth blog: Frog Dreaming
May 27th, 2009 - Posted in personal growth, duty of care, grief, love, wisdom | |
3 Responses to ' Introducing Shereen R '
Leave a reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
on May 28th, 2009 at 8:33 am
Shereen, I’m moved to tears.
on May 28th, 2009 at 3:22 pm
Beautiful, thankyou for sharing this story.
on May 31st, 2009 at 5:31 pm
I hope I can handle loss with such Grace when the time comes.
thanks for this.