…a brief glance…

On Friday we finally buried my Mom. After almost three months of having her ashes at home and finalising the family plot, she is finally physically at her resting place. Which is comforting as well as a little sad. The whole week had been like a mental and emotional preparation to what Friday was going to be. How hard it could possibly be. Numerous conversations between my sister and I was had about how we felt about Friday and how it was going to suck, and low and behold, it did suck.

 The night before was spent sleepless as predicted, by all of us I’m sure. It was like we were all torn about the fact that finality will finally be reached and some form of closure, regardless how we didn’t want it, was needed. As previously decided we (the immediate family) were going to meet at Blair Athol and have a procession to Forest Lawn. So there we were, four cars solemnly driving towards where we were going to bury my Mom. Me at front in her car, with her ashes in the front seat beside me whilst her favourite song was playing repeatedly in the car the whole way there, and my Aunt sitting semi silent at the back seat. To say tears fell would be rather stating the obvious. I lost it would probably be a more accurate term. It was the last time my Mom would be in her car, in whatever form. It upset me even more that the last time we were in that car together was the last time we were ever in a car together. Again I was reminded of all the things I was going to miss about her. Again the tears came.

The service was rather low key, and with the exception of the priest who didn’t know her and a couple of others ‘necessary by formality’, it was rather intimate. Exactly how we had wanted it to be. It seemed fitting to only have the people who were there in those last hours with her there. The same people who in that one night formed a bond that was not exactly asked for, but bonded regardless, for which I am grateful. For it is the very same people who have been with us every step of the way. Living out our very own personal nightmare, and getting each other through it, the very best way we can. By sticking together. Through her death my Mom had reminded us the biggest lesson she has ever taught us, that family comes first. It is family, whom not only by blood but spirit that love you unconditionally and are there to meet you at your lowest point, and just sit with you. It’s the very same family who throw that arm around you and comfot you without asking how you are, because something in your spirit tells them you’re not. It’s this family that my Mom would be proud of, the family she always saw in us to be.

Yesterday we had a family lunch at Blair Athol for the 3rd month anniversary…the night before as I cleaned out my room I found a card that my Mom had sent me whilst I was in London, and reading it surely brought me to tears. My Mom hardly writes essays in her cards, and in this particular one, she did. It was my first birthday away from home.

To dearest Cooks,

Although it breaks my heart to let you go, I know I can’t do anything about it.

I’m proud of you and support you in this endeavour. Nobody will say what you did is easy so the more I salute you on this. Be brave, you’ll get through this with flying colours. It’s lonely but think of the things you did before you left, the happy memories, I’m sure it will somehow make up for the sadness you’re feeling now.

Think of the beautiful places you’ll see, the new friends you’ll meet. The sad and the happy experiences in the process, knowing your character you’ll definitely pass this test.

Explore and enjoy. I’m happy in a way that you built courage to do and pursue this venture, what you will see, what you will learn, what you will become after that will certainly build more points to the good person you already are, just stick to your upbringing, culture and principles. Always remember keep your chin up and feel better about yourself all the time. What anybody can you, you can do a lot better.

Look after yourself, eat properly, do a lot of exercise, a healthy body gives you a healthy mind.

Kuya will always be your Kuya. Ate will always be Ate and you will always be you. I believe everyone was born with their own character, parents are there only to guide and support. I love you 3 with the same strength, no more, no less, believe it or not.

Love You, Mom

Needless to say I lost it….again! It was words she wrote over three years ago but they could be applicable today. Through the grief and sorrow it’s easy to forget certain facts, to doubt certain things. My Mom loved me…all of us, and reading those words the other day was upsetting, as it is today, but it’s also like hearing her speak into my heart that is still grieving her absence. That it will be okay. So thanks Mom…for still being around.