When a girl loses her mother ..

I have been away from my blog for a while.. This is why...

I remember being a little girl and having my hair cut very short and I remember crying and hiding from people's eyes.. It is because we grow up on fairy tales of lovely princesses with long hair, Rapunzel, Ariel the mermaid .. and what a heart break that was when her sisters in a heroic expression of sisterhood chopped off their locks for her.

A woman’s hair remains her pride, her crown and maybe that is why people fear cancer the most when they see a woman having lost her fair. I wish that was the worst part of that ugly disease and what it leads to ..

The day I tool her, however, to get her hair cut was one of the most trying days of my life. There I was, taking my mother by the hand to get her prepared for the journey. She opted to spare her regular hairdresser the news. I take her by the hand and, like a child, she does not protest. Like the little girl I was, she finds herself helpless, led, driven and stripped lock by lock from her femininity.

Then every night, when the chemo kicked in, I would take her head in my arms every night. I would brush her hair, hiding away the shedding locks. I would tell her about my day at work, like she used to tell me about hers over coffee in the afternoons.

Sitting together in that sterile ward, watching the food channel and brushing my mother’s falling hair will always be the most intimate time and the most heart wrenching time of my life.

People fear cancer the most when they see a woman losing her hair.. what about her identity, her appetite, her voice, her vision, her dignity…

 

Today I decided to start expressing my grief. I decided to confront my remaining grief and the imagery I was afraid to revisit for the past year. It is strange how cruel people can be faced with your grief. People seem very understanding initially. As time passes they lose interest. They wonder why you still look sad when you are not mourning anymore. One look into your eyes gives away that you still mourn and your grief is awake.. no it is not easy for a girl to lose a mother.. no you never revert back, you never forget and you never move on..

 

 

Do not go… not yet…

Your limbs spread around you
As if to make a statement
As if to tell the world you exist
Still
As if to say
That you are not ready to go
Not yet ...

Behind your frail body
Beaten with sickness
Your aching bones
Your eyes, deepened with pain
Blackened with fear
You scream, let me stay
And your mortal flesh resists
You slowly
Ever so cruelly
Cease to exist
Your disintegrating organs
Your wrinkling face
Are mocking the power that you were
Every tear they drop around you
Fill you with despair
And you’re not ready
Not yet ...

In a blink of a blink
You are reduced to wires and numbers
A lump of bones
Wrapped in a quilt of flesh
Your vibrant presence
Emptied and gutted
Flipped inside out
Carved and all is left
Scars ...

You look so small, so weak
And I feel weak
I feel like my back is broken
Like I am exposed
Like I am lost
And a chart reminds me
That they will scar you again
And I want you to be healthy again
And I want to be a kid again
Hiding in you and playing around you
Your sick arms cannot pick me up
Anymore ...

I want them to remove that silly robe
And give you your clothes
And I wish you would forgive me
For the times I wasn’t there
For when I didn’t stand beside you
for when I didn’t understand
and I wish I had another chance
to make it up for you
and show you I still need you
Don’t go,
Not yet ...