It's been a little over two weeks since I last posted. It seems just like yesterday. My mind had been blank and I just could not bring myself back into writing, or creating anything, for that matter. I feel like I'm just going through the motions of everyday life.
Today, however, feels a little different. Chris, Ysabella and I were in Church this morning for the Sunday Mass and I guess it helped to connect with people of the same faith, those with thoughts, intentions, and longings too deep to even verbalize. Just being in the same place as they were was enough reminder that LIFE GOES ON, even if you have to start over. And over.
A day after my last post I headed for JFK International in NY to attend my mother's wake and funeral services in the Philippines. During the hours between hearing the news about Mom's demise and checking-in for my flight I tried my best to be functional...especially around Ysabella. She needed me to be functional. It was hard, but I had to act as though everything was okay. The moment Chris and Ysa left me at the airport, I just let everything go...no tears, but I felt so numb and small and overcome with sadness. I went through the airport procedures like a robot. It was unreal. It was my first time to ever travel alone and the 20-something-hour flight was simply overwhelming. The closer I got to my destination, the more fearful and nervous I became, for it was a reminder that what happened had really happened and that Mom's actually, really gone.
The first sight of Mom lying in her casket was just too unbearable. I cried like I never did before. I felt like a 5-year old abandoned by her mother. Too many regrets, what if's, what-could-have-beens, apologies... they all came raining down upon me. I would never want to feel that way again.
Like what I said in my last post, knowing that Mom is now free from pain and suffering offers some kind of comfort. I'd like to hold on to that.
The day before my return flight, I spent some time with my sisters (brother's busy with work). We had a special dinner, and goofed around for the most part of the night until we fell asleep. In the same bedroom. I cannot remember the last time we ever did that.The following morning, before I headed for the airport, we had breakfast together, and goofed around some more. We kept the atmosphere light, despite the pain and sadness that we knew we would all have to face on our own. Grieving together is so much more bearable than grieving alone. Unfortunately, we do not have that privilege. My sisters live about 2 hours away from each other and I, obviously, live in an entirely different time zone. Needless to say, I savored those last few hours that I had left to spend with them. I think our loss had driven us closer together.
I arrived at past 1am on Friday, October 26, and seeing Chris and Ysabella after a week of being away was such a welcome and comforting sight. I rested in the hours that followed and that same day, with jet lag and all, Ysa and I went to pick up some goods in preparation for Hurricane Sandy (whew!)
So Hurricane Sandy came and went, and left an awful lot of devastation. Lives had been lost, properties damaged. I am truly grateful that our home had kept us safe and secure. We're okay except for the power outage that left us sleeping in the cold. Our driveway gate was damaged but that's nothing compared to what other people went through and are still going through.
Losing my Mom was and still is heart-breaking. Experiencing Hurricane Sandy was scary. Standing in Church this morning to hear the Good News and reconnect with others was necessary - my heart and soul needed it. All three were wake-up calls. Losing Mom brought me closer to my family. The hurricane enabled me to appreciate what really matters, taught me through others that material things are so temporary, that candle-lit dinners are way more fun, and sticking together can beat the cold. Being in Church this morning made me realize I am not the only one in pain; others are grieving, too, and trying to cope. Listening to the Gospel and Homily reaffirmed my faith.
The last two and a half weeks were so difficult I would never wish it on anybody. But here I am...starting over, embracing life like it's a heaven-sent gift. I was numb for a while, just automatically functioning, crying in between. But today I danced with Ysa, sang a song...and I am writing this post. These don't mean that the sorrow is over...it will be around for a while, I will just handle it better. I think Mom will be proud of me.
It's good to be back,
HANNAH