9 Things I Learned in the Year after my Mother Passed.
By: Alyssa Samson
It was a Sunday. November 3, 2013 inflicted a wound like none
other, reaching inside of me and tearing out what was left of my beating heart.
It was the day I shattered to a million pieces without a hope in the world to
piece it back together.
It was the day I lost my mother.
I’m not sure how one describes the jumble of emotions, the
racket of wailings or the enduring isolation that follows when a mother passes.
The very fabric of life seems to buckle and cave in from the sheer burden of it
all. Sense no longer works as a blanket of indifference that separates you from
the raw emotions and delight of life.
Breathing is an effort. Organs go on strike. And then, life
lurches forward with a momentum so strong that it defies physics. Suddenly, I
found myself lost and alone, suffocating in a world of white noise.
It didn’t matter if I was in a crowd of people or surrounded by
those I had left. I felt a visceral separation and an undercurrent of another
seething emotion.
I was angry. That day had taken my biggest supporter and my
number-one fan from me, and I wanted to give up. Words fail to exhaustively
articulate the painful parting of mother and daughter… or having to write your
mother’s eulogy at age 24… or the knowledge that you’ll never hear her voice
again.
Or, the desperation of listening to every voicemail you ever
saved on repeat, just to capture a last lingering moment with her.
Losing someone so significant, inspirational and influential is
an experience no textbook or novel could begin to teach me to comprehend. Now,
as a year without her approaches, I count my moments by breaths and no longer
by hours or minutes.
As I look back on the breaths I have survived, struggling to
cross that bridge of adversity and pain, I have figured out how to survive.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
I learned the world won’t stop for you.
There are many days that still leave me defeated, but life isn’t
a video game. You can’t pause the moment or rewind time; you are not given an
infinite number of lives.
You are given one life, and the world will continue to move on,
despite the fact you may feel like your whole world has stopped. The only
way to heal is to keep moving.
I learned your troubles will not always be at the forefront of
everyone else’s mind.
When you are fighting your own internal battles, it seems
surreal when no one else notices the torment raging just below your surface.
You may feel as though you are screaming and railing against the bars of life,
but still, no one will hear you.
Through this experience, I learned people will move on quicker
than you will. Sympathy is fleeting when you are not the one with an injured
wing — and that’s okay.
I learned love knows no boundaries.
I used to fear that moving away from those I loved most would
hinder my relationships and somehow fade with physical distance. Now, I fear
the unrequited stream of communication with the person I love most will cause
those precious memories to slip through my fingers, like a wisp of smoke.
But love — unconditional love, at that — knows no boundaries; it
will never be lost, regardless of the distance in time and space.
I learned that though people can’t be replaced, you can still
find peace.
Justifying death can put you on a journey with a revolving door.
It is endless and forever spinning. No amount of begging, crying or yelling
could possibly right the wrong you feel.
While it will take a lifetime to recover from the emptiness I
feel, I have taken a step down the path of self-preservation to find peace
within myself.
I learned there is strength in perception.
You could spend years wondering why the world chose to plague
you with misery and misfortune or you can pick up your head and see the heartbreak
around you. Someone else may be willing to give everything to have the gifts
you overlook in your own life.
When sadness and despair begin to close in around me, I find
myself redirecting those thoughts to others who are struggling elsewhere. Reevaluating
the negatives in your life with a different perspective can often bring you a
step closer toward reconciliation.
I learned to be grateful for what you still have.
The happiest people are those who value what they have rather
than focusing on what they lack. How can you appreciate the good without the
bad? If you lost something or someone dear to you, take a moment to appreciate
everything you still have within reach, regardless of how big or small.
I learned you still have control in your life.
Understanding you have control over your emotions and actions is
the first step toward overcoming any obstacle.
You may not be able to change everything that happens to you in
life, but you can change how you react and behave in challenging situations and
the direction you choose next.
I learned adversity isn’t an excuse to give up.
Motivation. Dreams. Goals. Focusing on forward movement will not
only keep you from remaining stuck in the past, but also help to purify your
thoughts.
In the end, after you overcome those struggles, you can look
back to see the strength in your pain. You can rarely recover what you lost,
but you still have everything to gain.
I learned it’s never truly goodbye, only see you later.
I
know in my heart my mother will never be gone, even when I’m aging in my
rocking chair. As the one person in my life who is irreplaceable, I know she
will always be there. So, it is not goodbye, just see you later — until next
time.
