Death: Volume1

The greatest taboo amongst most families.

I know my recent posts have been somewhat light hearted and more related to what we are currently going through. I have waited a little while to post this but today more than ever I feel the need to bring this taboo topic to the front of the class for some much needed debunking.

There has never been a comfortable time to round everyone up at the dinner table and discuss the big old “death” card and I completely understand why. It’s a thought you never want to entertain or ever experience within the walls of your home. It’s a word that makes people tear up or even tend to shrug off almost as if death is a concept that is comparable to the next time a meteor strikes earth. I get it. I was one of those people that never thought I would experience something so permanent at the age of 25 when I lost my beloved mother.

Death is never spoken about in a serious matter amongst our family and look, I understand, not everything must be a morbid conversation. All I’m saying is make sure you have these conversations in order to prepare for that gut wrenching experience (it makes the process a lot less stressful).

Now back to death. We are born into this earth with a purpose, we complete our purpose and we simply return home. Home is in fact in Heaven. Hell, that we are so accustomed to hearing about exists in good old Earth itself (well that’s what I believe).It explains the war, famine, greed and sinful deeds that we so often see.

Let me share a personal story. My mother passed away when I was 25. Being the last born brat of the house I didn’t even know how to cook rice or where we kept cooking oil (yes that bad) and considering how she passed I held myself accountable and responsible for years. I always felt like I didn’t do enough or I wasn’t there enough because I was always working or in my own little bubble. As I lay here feeling miserable with this awful virus I miss the gentle embrace and comfort that I got from being around her.  I think that’s why each time I get sick I feel my depression kicking in because I’m at my weakest and I think of her.

I took for granted the wonderful meals she prepared and the care she took in listening to my usual rants about my superiors giving me hell at work. She took care of me, day and night (once I faked a migraine because I was hungover -hope she doesn’t see this, lol) and gave me the massage of my life.

Growing up, my dad worked a regular low paying job whilst my mum ran a tuck shop at home to get me and my sister through varsity. I had a Barbie every year and branded clothes but never questioned how in the Dorris fruit cake we could afford it. We couldn’t. Our groceries were all paid for with a credit card and I would help them make deposits each month because they didn’t know how the machine worked at Absa. Life was hard. But I didn’t know. I lived selfishly.

I lived selfishly until one major event happened in our home and I promised myself my parents would never have to worry about anything again. I started my internship and contributed (the very little I earned) towards the house and told my mum to quit the tuck shop.

Years went by and in 2015 Mother’s  Day she felt sick. She couldn’t even eat my horrible roast chicken that I spent 2 hours working on but she read my Mother’s Day card and had a the loveliest chuckle. I think it was the last laugh I heard of hers.

A few days passed and she wasn’t getting better and my only option was to admit her into hospital. I’m not sure which part was harder, admitting her into hospital or fighting the feeling  that she will never come back home.

I guess I knew then… I knew she wouldn’t come back home. A few days later we got the dreaded call from the hospital “I think you should come in” at midnight. Dad burst into tears, put on his clothes and shoes and we headed there.

Monitors went off. She shed a tear (even though comatose) and that was it. Everything was over. Or so I thought. Days passed with the house full of people giving you support and soon it becomes occasional visits. The food stops coming from worried friends and family making sure you eat on time. You are left to fend for yourself. People post status messages about their fun weekends, their family outings, their “self-care” shit and you sit there and wonder how dare they?

How dare they post their happiness and positivity whilst you sit there under the darkest cloud known to man? Then it hits you. As time goes by people are living their lives (and as they should-no hate), because the reality of this is… life goes on.

Whether we like it or not, that pain in our heart that seems to pierce even sharper within us does not go away, however each morning the sun comes up, signaling the start of a new 24 hour cycle. Surprisingly I went into a mode where I felt the need to be strong and hold it together for my father however that came to bite in the toosh when I collapsed at work. If there’s one thing I would advise anyone during the “fresh grief” process, is this: feel your pain and feel your grief because you cannot be strong all the time. If you mask it a year goes by and all of a sudden you burst into tears at a car dealership and people have no cooking clue why you got emotional over seeing a car you wanted to get when they were around.

Whether we like it or not this thing we call “life” does not stop for anyone and it simply goes on. I remember being so terribly heartbroken during the first Mothers Day without my mum that I felt so envious of everyone posting pictures with their mothers. Posting about the lovely day they had and the wonderful gifts they bought her. I wished I had that. I was torn apart.

Death is inevitable. Crushing right? It is unavoidable, excruciatingly difficult to accept and not given the attention it actually deserves. Death is the stage of life that leaves the biggest scar on every corner of the people that loved you. The pain of losing someone you love is something that will always be there, it’s like a souvenir you never asked for. With that said, time goes by and as time goes by, you heart developed some kind of acceptance that this person isn’t here anymore and now I have to go on because I am still here.

I have to go on because I’m still very much alive with bills to pay and debits that keep rolling in. I have to go on because she would have wanted me to. We have to live because they LIVED. If you think about your deceased loved one- how often did you hear of them living a mediocre life? Hardly ever right? What makes us any different?

If you have lost someone and are struggling to cope with grief there are resources available. Please seek medical help.

Let me know your thoughts or if you wish to remain anonymous, send my a message on the Chat option.

Here’s to healing.