The Lonely Living


storm clouds photo: Dark (storm) Clouds sadface.png
 
This time of year though filled with summer’s joy, will always have the memory of losing my mom hanging over me.

The following is an assignment on Literary Journalism from a Creative Writing course that I took shortly after my mom passed and before I was hospitalized for my breakdown.

My instructor gave me an A+ and wrote “powerful and evocative”

I came across it today in my papers and wanted to share it here.

 

The Lonely Living

June 29, 2005

( The Day after…)

The sky is gray, thunder rumbles in the distance, brewing for a grand release. I sense your anger for having to leave. I, too, am angry. I try to channel it into something constructive; but, I find myself becoming steel around the edges, too afraid to pause for I feel I will mourn forever. I hear you speak, “Breathe”, you remind me it’s okay. Light hides behind the black clouds, but I do not feel it’s warmth. The wind gathers strength as I try to absorb and gather the energy of the elements, like you taught me. Lightning flashes, thunder echoes with an eerie power I cannot help  but to believe you are that power I sense. Your magic unleashed now, free from it’s body. My tears burst forth in fury.

(after the storm)

Thank you for your release of anger and frustration. Now I am quiet and grieve as you weep gently. Thank you for bringing our family together today. We gathered in front of the picture window to watch the sky and listen to your story. Leaning on one another, no words spoken, only tears pelting against the window pane.

 

July 01, 2005

I cried for an eternity last night, released my fears, lost my might. I miss you mom, I feel empty inside. I know I said I’d be strong, I lied. A little girl and a woman alone, please mom, come home.

 

July 05, 2005

(just a couple of thoughts)

The biggest mystery to life…is death.

I feel so human today…it hurts.

 

July 09, 2005

I am forcing myself to go to Maine today. I just want to curl up and be left alone. It seems as the shock fades, the dark reality sinks in a little more each day.

 

July 10, 2005

Oh, Mom, I don’t know what to do, life is so lonely without you. My chest is heavy, my heart races with anxiety, my nerves are raw. It takes every little bit of energy to just exist. I am confused. I am weak. I don’t know how to get better. I erupt with emotions, yelling, begging.  I am left here with no one to understand me. I know I have to be strong, but where do I find the strength? My eyes are dry and sore. I want to curl up and fade away. A tiny flicker inside is the only light that keeps me going; but, the slightest breeze blows it out, leaving me exhausted and depressed, not knowing how to ignite it again, so i look for you, even s I write.

 

July 12, 2005

I look out to the land and feel my mother. She is here. I am crazy, but no…there she is, in every tree, flower and blade of grass. The cardinal sings a song of the past. Reality hits me, I am alone. Tears fall. The swing rocks gently, yet there is no breeze. Of course she is here, my fears put to ease. She will always be a part of me, and I of her. I am her legacy now and forever.

 

July 15, 2005

Here I sit, pause and reflect. There are small sections of time that I can forget; but, then I look and see something of yours,  or I miss you at dinner,or need to talk to you…and then I remember…you’re gone.

The other day I started a new job, and if you were here, I’d relive every moment and we would laugh with excitement.

The other night I cooked a great dinner, and if you were here you would have raved about my cooking and enjoyed every morsel. We’d have a glass of wine and toast “Here’s to the moment”!

If you were here, you would love the family room I created for you, your children and your grandchildren. You always liked the way I created great “vibes” in a room.

If you were here, we could sit on the porch swing and listen to the birds…If you were here, I would hug you and never let you go.

As I pause and remember, I realize you are not here, and I weep, sometime gently, sometimes with great belly aching roars. I do not know how this loneliness will ever leave me. I try to let go of you physically, so I can see the signs that you are here, and they comfort me; but , they cannot subside my grief.

 

July 17, 2005

I feel you everywhere; but,  not tangible. I can reach; but,  I don’t know where. I look into the woods half expecting to see you in some shape or form; but, you are not physical, and I do not know how to grab a hold of you. It is frustrating and heart wrenching. Nothing seems real, yet anything seems possible, nothing makes sense. I wait for you to find a way to communicate with me; but, does my mind delude me? Is it not possible for you to send  a sign? Do I just have the childish faith that my mother can do anything?  Yes, I do; It was you who taught me imagination, and sometimes that is where the true reality lies. So, the cardinals sing, I look, I swing, I wait……

 

July 18, 2005

It feels there are no words left that I can write to release my emotions.  I sit and wait for them to come to me; but, I sit in darkness.  Where are you sweet mother?  Do you not hear my cries?  Can you not comfort me?  No one but spirits to talk to.  The lonely living.  I seek answers that cannot be found.  Death seems not so bad anymore…however; I have too much to live for.  Until the day that souls unite…I pray, I march, I fight, and at the end of the day, I sit in exhaustion…I rest in the comfort of my imagination, and envelop myself with the mystery of the unknown.

 

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5 thoughts on “The Lonely Living

  1. I’m so glad you shared this. Such powerful writing. I agree with your teachers comments. Every part of it is of great value…… I especially liked July 12.

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