Sentimental Healing

 

I have never been the best when it comes to expressing my feelings to those I love. I would rather suffer in silence. Grieve the sadness that my feelings could never voice in the real world, alone. I get this from my mom. Though when it comes to self-expression, the feeling of love, passion, and compassion my mom never failed at writing a sentiment that would make you feel at home. She always knew what to say. She always knows what to say. When a storm would wrap me up in thorns and blood would shed she knew how to calm the waves that sank me.

Right now I am drowning because how do I cope with this? How do I cope with watching my mother do the one thing I never imagined? How do I watch a person with such light and strength be brought down by the curse of a disease? Something out of her control something out of all our control. My heart has never sunk to the pit of my stomach so fast then it did when I got a ft call the night before her surgery. I have never felt what a gunshot has felt like nor have I ever broken a leg, but from what I’ve heard and seen this was my gunshot. 

I was on the other side of the states in a dull dorm room laughing with my roommate and talking about

what we wanted to do over the weekend. I was expecting to hear from my mom to tell me that the doctor fixed her and took care of the abdominal pain with a quick pill. But instead, I got the news I never thought would exist in a world you created, a world I live in because of you. I imagined the worst and thought about what I would do if it was the worst and the truth is I wouldn’t want to live in a world where I couldn’t sing, laugh, shop, and cry with you. Because it would be without you instead of with you. You are feeling better now and the surgery went well, but the doctors are sure you have cancer. My mom? My joke-making, beautiful soul of a mother has cancer? No. No. Denial came running to my door faster than I thought it would. Along with anger. I focused so much on how angry I had been for other things I wasn’t able to control, I resented you, but you still snuck in tears of joy and hugs the last time I saw you. I keep trying to think of our last normal day before the rolling in texts from strangers, family, and friends asking me how was doing. Wondering what they could do and that they would give me anything I’d ask for. But they will never be able to give me what I wanted. I wanted the past, I wanted it to not be real. I remember waking up the day after you told me thinking it was all a dream. I wish it was. I remember breaking down when my aunt’s family called her. They called to check in and ask about her. I broke down because I missed that. I missed the normal convo with mom and dad.  My world has been a constant snow globe.

Calm when not shaken but a mess when flipped. 

I wrote this about two months ago when I first got home. I arrived to family I wasn't used to having around and I arrived to chaos and confusion. I would be lying if I was to say that I still wasn't confused and in denial. Most of what I went through with my family seemed more like a nightmare I couldn't shake. The anger flowed and coursed through my veins. I couldn't control what was happening to everyone. I couldn't heal my mom, sister, brother, or dad. I felt helpless and lost trying my absolute hardest to be okay for the sake of my mom and dad. I wish I handled it better and I wish I held my mom's hand more. I look back at those two months and try to see all the good that came from the time I spent at home. I think about the time I was able to lie with my mom and watch a movie. Or the times we'd sing Whitney Houston because we thought we sang it better. I think about going

to lunch with my dad and getting late-night snacks with my sister. Watching my brother in awe, because he is not a little baby anymore. I spent a lot of my days watching because most of the time I never knew what to say. Sometimes I am still at a loss for words. A lot of people ask me if I am okay and I never really know how to respond to that because I am still trying to be okay. For the sake of my family and for the sake of myself. I am forever grateful for the people that answered my late-night phone calls and for my friends that never stopped checking in on me. I know that time will heal. For now, I am living with my reality peacefully because it is out of my control. I am loving my parents unconditionally because they taught me compassion and acceptance. So I'll tell my family I love them and appreciate them as much as I can because I need to say and appreciate it more. I am forever grateful for the family I was given. When things continue to get tough I know who I can count on, so I will work on being the person that others can count on, especially my best friend, my mom.