Tag Archives: Grief

14.13: Every Now and Then

***Began on May 14, 2013***

“We all knew she was going to go. But when it finally happens, it still catches you by surprise, you know?”

My aunt died five days ago. She died on her birthday. We all think she did it on purpose – holding on so that she could pass on on the very day she was born. She was cremated on the same day and then buried three days later.

I haven’t been at work for four and a half days. Today’s my first day back and it feels incredibly strange to be here. To some degree it’s like I’m not the person I was a week ago. These days, I’m often half and half – half where I am and half somewhere else. I only wish I could figure out where that somewhere else is. It’s strange, really. I wish I could explain it. But I can’t.

Most times it’s like I’m drowning in an endless sea of sorrow. Sometimes I wish I could just let the sadness take me and let me drift off to where it wishes… But I am equally terrified that I wouldn’t be able to find my way back.

I wonder why her passing hurt so much. She was not particularly close to me – and the most that I ever felt her presence was when she was putting me through school. I know that I will always be grateful for that, but it still does not explain why I cried buckets and buckets of tears these past few weeks.

Sometimes I think I do it for my cousin, as there is that perpetual need for him to remain steadfast and strong for everyone who was left behind. So I cry the tears he cannot cry and my heart breaks instead of his.

But I cannot deny that I also cry for myself… Because, for me, every death is the same death. Every loss is the same loss. It is losing my mother, my father, and Alexis all over again.

Every death is the same death… and sometimes I wonder if I will forever be in mourning.

 

 

Blessed Be…

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13.13: Always

Happy birthday, Butterfly.

Mommy loves you.

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12.13: As Sharp as Broken Glass

There are days like today when I lose my mind a little and start checking things that I shouldn’t be checking out anymore. For those of you who think this is another shout out to the recipient of this post, you’re sorely mistaken. There will be no names (Yes, I did that before. Yes, I have gotten over it. No, I do not regret doing that.) but I have no doubt you’ll know if it’s for you.

I think I think this is an entry that has been a long time coming. Maybe it’s something that I probably should have written several months ago, but didn’t. But what does it matter? I’m finally writing it.

*          *          *

Dear You,

I miss you. I miss us. I miss the time when I would see you at least once every week – when we had become fixtures in that Indian restaurant conveniently situated near our respective offices. I miss bringing you to your building before taking the cab home. I miss you telling the cab driver to make sure he took good care of me.

I miss how you always used to be there… How you made me feel like you would love me no matter what happened. I miss the times when it was so clear that you and I were always going to be in each other’s lives. We both made bad choices and many, many mistakes and I guess I always thought our friendship was stronger than that.

Was I wrong?

Sometimes I still wonder about what really happened. Sometimes I wish I knew the reason why you suddenly went away. Sometimes I wish I didn’t care… Then maybe I wouldn’t wonder so much.

No, I don’t understand and there are so many moments when I wish I did. You were there when I was broken and trying to find my way back and it’s just the saddest thing that now that I’m so incredibly happy, you are the one person I cannot share it with.

I will always wonder about you, I think. No matter what has come to pass, you will always be part of my story. I will always be grateful to you.

I wish you every happiness. And I will always wish you peace.

In Memoriam,
Me

*          *          *

 

 

Blessed Be…

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05.13: A Little Fall of Rain

The Miserable Ones

So I finally got to watch Les Miserables.

After weeks of hearing how good it was and how much they cried over the film, I finally found myself falling in line, fervently praying that my beloved and I would find unoccupied seats in a rather full theatre. I cannot thank Don enough for agreeing to watch it with me – I knew he primarily watched because I wanted to. I did not expect the film to be as long as it was – it is never easy for me to sit still for long periods of time, so you would think two and a half hours would seem like a lifetime.

But it wasn’t.

So many people have made it known – either through actual conversations that left me salivating for a theatre tickets or the multitudes of posts made on (social networking site undisclosed) – that tears were shed during the film. Personally, I knew I would cry. I mean, I’m the girl who cried while watching Aladdin (when he told Genie that his third wish was for Genie to be free). What I did not expect was when the tears actually fell.

As the credits were rolling, I sent an SMS to my best friend… “You HAVE to watch Les Mis. And you HAVE to bring tissue. Like 10 boxes.” When we met up with him that night, he asked me if I really cried. I did. I felt like every time some character died, I cried. The problem was people kept on dying throughout the film.

No, watching it on a Sunday night wasn’t the best idea in the world because it left me with such a heavy feeling in my heart. I was surprised to find my tears falling during Fantine‘s I Dream a Dream, Eponine‘s A Little Fall of Rain and Jean Valjean‘s death.

As we walked out of the theatre, I fully understood why people kept lining up to watch this movie. It was truly a magnificent experience… A beautiful story with characters that were both flawed and strong… Its dialogue was done entirely through song yet every viewer understands… But most of all, at the end of two and a half hours, you understand why it was entitled “The Miserable Ones“. And this, more than anything else, I think, is what inexplicably draws us in and breaks our hearts.

After all, at one point or another, no matter how fleeting, we were all miserable too.

 

 

Ciao Bella!

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04.13: Parang Paper Cut Lang Sa Mata

Whoever said that curiosity killed the cat didn’t know half of it. They forgot to mention the sheer and utter torture that comes with opening accounts you weren’t supposed to look up in the first place… That and the realization that sometimes it’s not your past that stabs you in the heart – it’s someone else’s.

My fault.  My bad.  I don’t know why I do these things.  Seriously.

 

 

Dark & Twisted…

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58 in ’12: I’ll Always Remember

Being stuck at home for the last 4 days (the first two because I’ve been feeling ill and the last two because of this never-ending rain) does have its perks. Apparently, a lot of other people have been stuck at home too because everyone has been online – excellent for catching up.

I went through a friend‘s notes in (social network undisclosed) and found a note that he posted. The instructions were straightforward and simple:

The rules: Don’t take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you’ve read that will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes. Tag fifteen friends, including me, because I’m interested in seeing what books my friends choose. (To do this, go to your Notes tab on your profile page, paste rules in a new note, cast your fifteen picks, and tag people in the note. Do yours before you read anyone else’s).

Of course, being the way I am, I’ve decided to post it here instead of (social network undisclosed). And, of course, my list came up to 20.

So here’s it is… The books that changed my life:

1. Nancy Drew and The Secret of The Forgotten City, Carloyn Keene (because it was the book that started it all)
2. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. Rowling (because it’s alright to always remember)
3. Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian, Rick Riordan (because one person can change the world)
4. Sisterhood Everylasting, Ann Brashares (because there are families we run from, and there are families we run to)
5. The Expected One, Kathleen McGowan (because it changed my faith)

Paper

Paper (Photo credit: Mele☺)

6. Wildwood Dancing, Juliet Marillier (because it made me believe in happily-ever-afters)
7. Once and Always, Judith McNaught (because this is how one should be loved)
8. Remembrance, Jude Deveraux (because this is how true love should be)
9. Tell Me Your Dreams, Sydney Sheldon (because it made me appreciate my course in college)
10. Helen of Troy, Margaret George (because it was the Tojan War from Helen’s eyes)
11. Something More, Sarah Ban Breathnach (because it I always have a choice)
12. Seven Ancient Wonders, Matthew Reilly (because it was the greatest adventure I had ever been in)
13. The Last Oracle, James Rollins (because it reminded me how it was to be innocent)
14. The Third Secret, Steve Berry (because it was a different telling of the third secret of Fatima)
15. The Witching Hour, Anne Rice (because it was about an extraordinary woman capable of extraordinary things)
16. Memnoch the Devil, Anne Rice (because it let me see the universe through completely different eyes)
17. Queen of the Damned, Anne Rice (because everyone has a story… even us evil ones)
18. Thirteen Reasons Why, Jay Asher (because there are days when I could have been the one who wrote it)
19. Nineteen Minutes, Jodi Picoult (because in nineteen minutes, you can have revenge)
20. The Witch of Portobello, Paulo Coelho (because it is the most enigmatic that we seek to understand)

What books will YOU always remember?

 

 

Ciao Bella!

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37 in ’12: Damned

I have a theory.

I don’t think I feel things the way other people do. Some people don’t feel (or there’s a bigger tendency to listen to their heads). Most people feel with their hearts. I am different.

I feel with my soul.

So every feeling is amplified – I am either in a state of bliss or my anger knows no bounds. I am either extremely in love with my life or helpless in my hopelessness. I can literally love and hate at the same time.

I feel with my soul. I have no middle ground.

There truly is no one like me.

*          *          *

Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues strong
It’s always darkest before the dawn

And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I’m always dragging that horse around

Our love is questioned, such a mournful sound
Tonight I’m gonna bury that horse in the ground
So I like to keep my issues strong
But it’s always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

And I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart
‘Cause I like to keep my issues strong
It’s always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
And given half the chance would I take any of it back
It’s a fine romance but it’s left me so undone
It’s always darkest before the dawn

Oh whoa, oh whoa…

And I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t
So here’s to drinks in the dark at the end of my road
And I’m ready to suffer and I’m ready to hope
It’s a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat
‘Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me
Looking for heaven, found the devil in me
Well what the hell I’m gonna let it happen to me, yeah

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

Shake It Off
Florence + The Machine

***

Truth

Speaking of being helpless in my hopelessness, this has been the dark little hole where I have been burying myself this past week. Too many triggers, I think, in too short a time.

I found too much of myself in Hannah Baker’s words. I heard myself a little to clearly. That was what started it all.

With my cousin’s passing, it felt like I was grieving not just for him, but for every single person that I’ve lost. Did you know that I never cried when my father died? I didn’t cry when my aunt passed. No tear fell when Alexis took his last breath. During those moments, it often felt like I was looking at what was happening instead of being part of it.

I felt my heart break, that much is true. My heart has been breaking since the day before I turned six… and it’s been breaking, bit by bit, every since. My spirit has splintered into a million different pieces. Some shards I’ve found and pieced back together. Some, I think, are lost to me forever.

I lose a bit of myself every time Death pays a visit. I died a little when my father did. I died a little bit more when my aunt did. But it was the loss of Alexis that left me broken. It’s been nine years. I’m still broken.

Sometimes I think the broken pieces feel different things at different times. That would explain the contradictions, the ability to swing from one extreme to the other.

Being broken made me strong. It taught me to compartmentalize and hold back the tears until there’s no one there to witness it. Being broken also made me brave. When you’ve lived a life like mine, you stop being afraid of so many things – you stop being afraid of being hurt, of your heart being broken, of people leaving, of being alone. I can hate with all of my heart and love with all of my soul. I can hold on to something for the rest of my life and I can walk out yours in a blink of an eye and never look back. Being broken allowed me to be my own best friend – that one person who understands when no one else does.

But there are days when I feel the burden of being broken weighing down on my shoulders.

I am strong and brave. I am also very, very tired.  Someone help me.



Blessed Be…

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