We had a little memorial service for our loved ones at our Manhattan church last Sunday. About 30 people came and stood at the front of the chapel and shared briefly their memories about their parent, spouse, sibling, grandparent, or child who’d passed.
I would say I was about 12th or 13th in line. I was the first one who cried (leave it to me!) I can’t seem to get through much public speaking without tearing up (I speak mostly for youth services at my church in Queens). Something about hearing my voice saying the words out loud? Who knows.
It’s funny how I forget just how fragile I am. How I keep going through the motions of every day and I forget that I still have a lot of pain juuust beneath the surface. I’ve been brought to tears by a whole list of random topics, but most times, it’s when I start talking about God or my mom.
It’s been a year and 29 weeks and I still feel so raw.
It’s not just mom. There are other things that have been chipping away at my emotional armor over time. I guess my mom passing away just brought out a lot of the emotions I got so good at hiding.
Sometimes I feel selfish. Or ashamed. Because people have gone through way worse than I have.
I really miss her though. I find myself wanting to go back to places we’ve been together as if somehow my presence in those places might bring her back to me. As if somehow memories of her are floating around in those places and perhaps I can catch a glimpse of her in the form of a gentle breeze brushing across my cheek or a warm ray of sunshine on my shoulder.
I lie awake some nights just confused. What do I feel? What do I want out of life? (Dramatic much?!) It’s funny to think about who you really are. Do you really know? And people are always changing right? So if you change, are you still you? I guess that’s the beauty of being human.
Welp! That ends my philosophical discussion for tonight! I’ll leave you to ponder these existential questions into the wee hours of the morning…