The Greatest Heartbreak
It has taken me close to 8 months to say anything, partly because I’ve had a hard time accepting the reality of it all, despite the finality of what happened. I haven’t been able to find the words without waterworks ensuing. Everything in my life came to a screeching halt last Fall. It all started with a missed call. A missed call on a Sunday from my youngest sibling. It was so early and so unlike her to call at that time of day that I dreaded what would be on the other end of that call when I finally reached her. I have gotten many calls like it prior, alerting me that my mother had to either go to the hospital because of another health crisis or “episode”. They happened so regularly that it was my routine to rush back home almost monthly for the past several years, just to lay eyes on her, verify she was alright and make the several hundred mile trek back to Philly. I was always grateful that I had the opportunity to do so. So many people didn’t get the chance. I was always on bended knee, thanking the lord for sparing her every time and covering her. Allowing her to see another day.
I couldn’t reach my sister but eventually heard from another relative that was at my family home, over 300 miles away: “You’re mother is gone”. As soon as the words left her mouth it was as if something inside me broke. I broke open into a million pieces and continued to break. I am still breaking. I can’t further describe what happened next. All I remember was I was in Philly one moment and by the evening, was back in my family home, searching for answers. After all, I had seen my mother almost 3 weeks prior. She was starting to look like she was on the mend and embracing her new normal. She had new routines, new procedures she had to adhere to and was seeming more resilient. Receiving this news rocked me to my core but still didn’t feel real. I had just seen her and she was starting to look like her usual self.
I couldn’t believe it and had to see for myself. I had spoken to her a couple of days prior. I now found myself replaying our last conversation over and other in my mind, looking for clues that maybe she knew what was coming. There was an urgency in her voice I had never heard before. She wasn’t saying anything out of the ordinary but it was the emphasis she was placing on certain things that I still, up until now, try to decipher. I remember arriving at my parents home and feeling the emptiness of it. Once her pride and joy, her masterpiece, felt like a shell. The warmth of her presence was gone. There were plenty of people in and out of there, which only added to its emptiness. Since she had been taken away before I arrived, it didn’t feel real. Once I saw my father, I knew. Then I saw my youngest sister and knew. Still, I couldn’t accept it. Before I got the chance to settle in, I had to go into full funeral-planning mode. No time to really grieve, I had to carry my dad into the most devastating time of his life.
I will spare you the details of all that transpired between the day she passed and the funeral (almost 2 weeks apart). I had went home, returned to Philly for a few days and returned again. I’ll spare you because I got a glimpse into the dark side of “family” when it comes to dealing with death. Let’s just say they put a new spin on “not all skin folk are your kin folk”. Not all kin folk care or have your best interests at heart. You see who really has your back. You get to see their real intentions and if you’re lucky, you’ll see what they really think, feel and the levels of deception they’ll reveal. Every revelation broke my heart more and more every time someone’s mask fell off. In that same breath, a bit of relief set in because I was finally starting to see who people really were at their core.
The funeral itself was beautiful. My parent’s community really showed up and relatives and friends poured in from all over the world. People I hadn’t seen since I was a child were there. Old friends, new friends and all those in between showed up and showed out. For a moment, my heart felt full seeing the showing of support. The only downside is that all eyes were on our immediate family. I could see through the empathetic gazes and stares that they were anticipating our unraveling. Having to keep it together and be strong was the goal. It wasn’t until I returned to my home, in the silence when I would finally be able to let the grief and sadness fully consume me. I’ve been to the darkest corners of my soul.
Even though I consider myself to be a realist, I was quick to envision a world without me in it before I would dare see a world without either of my parents. As they lowered my mother’s casket into the ground, I felt like a part of me was being lowered with her, almost like an untethering was occurring. I think we often take for granted the roles that parents play in our lives. My mother served as sort of a compass in mine, and when I speak to my dad, he describes her as such. She was so many things to us, played so many roles, wore so many hats and was so much to so many people. She offered a covering that was unmatched. I could be anywhere in the world and feel the protection of her prayers over me. She had a direct line to God, and had so much wisdom and knowledge. Even when she was being stubborn as all get out, she had an unshakeable faith that made you question your own existence and reassess yourself.
There are times when I wake up and I think to call her just to hear her sing-songy voice on the other end but then I am reminded that she isn’t here. That never-ending loop of pain and grief can be all-consuming. I have to remind myself that my mother wouldn’t want me to wallow in it. There is no greater heartbreak than losing a parent, especially your mother. Losing her showed how fragile life is. Mothers are known for their strength, unconditional love and care. To lose a great love like that, one that can’t be replaced by anyone, is truly heartbreaking. My only hope is to try to harness as much of that love and to be able to give and receive just as much of it.