I would not be able to feel good about myself, if I did not do for my mother, what she did for me. This is the natural connection that I can not deny, and attempting to do so over the years, trying to ignore it, has taken a toll on me. I have even found myself arguments, and heated debates over whether or not my mother is “Resting in peace”, and that I should simply forget, or “brush off’ what I have not been able to do. For the latter of my quest for closure, I did believe that she was resting in peace, and because of that I did not rock the boat, while the basics were not being done. I stayed silent and to myself. It was astonishing to see the contrast between her way of doing things for us, vs the way things were being done, self-serving, self-centered, insensitive to her needs, and the relatives who loved and know her before us. It seemed all too convenient, and the quickest way to not have to deal with her as she was, prior to her untimely passing, because she was at her weakest and most vulnerable, and she was not being cared for or protected, or validated. And by validated, I mean her mental illness battle, had already become a burden, and she was treated as though she should not have it, and that I found extremely unfair, disappointed and very sad. This is not at all the approach she took, especially in her day to day tasks while raising us, giving back to her legacy, is showing respect to her, and God for the blessing of a good mother.
Empathizing and understanding why certain decisions were made, by putting myself in a mother’s shoes, my mother’s shoes, this helps me to make sense of the decisions she made, as a young woman, while being in the heart of the city, without consistent support from her husband. There are so many factors that affected her decisions, and she may not have had the time or resources, or options, that I have had being in the city alone. During the most struggling times, I’ve asked myself, How did she navigate the city all the time, car-less? The cost of a taxi adds up, and back then there were wondered how did she do it? Alone with a handful of children, including a toddler, plus a baby in a stroller, with her petite frame, youthful appearance, and mild demeanor. When the subway line goes down with little to zero notice, and the crowds at the platform accumulate as the announcement is made on the intercom, that there will be no service from _________ to ___________ station, shuttle buses will be outside waiting at __________, how did she decide the best way to make it CLOSEST to home, especially during unpredictable, bad weather?? and what if the baby starts crying, and needs a diaper change, and there’s no washrooms or “family” washrooms, available for use at the station?? Not all stations have washrooms, too, so she’d have to exit the station, regardless of the swarming crowd, and find the nearest appropriate, clean, family-friendly restaurant, and use their washroom. How will she make it through the anxious crowd, moving slow and fast simultaneously, to find the elevator, to help us get to the main floor as fast as possible. And, what if there is a long line of even ore anxious people at this elevator, or no defined line up, causing the impatient crowd to become even more agitated…
Mom’s patience and poise, taught me how to put these daily hiccups in perspective, which has helped me survive the city.
My purpose not in vain, I truly felt that way, and I told myself that any hits, bullying, slander or betrayal that cracked my heart, would eventually heal through the years, and the greatest most relevant lesson, that I could learn, was my understanding and respect for life and death, would be solidified, which was all worth it for the bigger picture was bigger than me. When this all I would no longer fear losing anyone or anything in this life, and I will proceed to live by the principles ingrained in me, with no hesitance or fear of anyone or anything. This I did, and I was proud of myself, but as the season changed to fall, I felt as though my year to-do list was incomplete, and I could not shake that feeling, which caused me to feel guilty. Then the dreams of her ensued, she would appear in my dreams from time to time, as she always did, but this time, my spirit started feeling as though I was on the clock. Time felt as though it would run out for me, to do what was right, as this required a group effort. The blessing of moving, I thought would help me secure the closure that my soul desires and needs, this is only natural. A piece of me, a hole in my heart, will remain until the mission is complete.
I would not be able to feel good about myself, if I did not do for my mother, what she did for me. This is the natural connection that I can not deny, and attempting to do so over the years, trying to ignore it, has taken a toll on me. I have even found myself arguments, and heated debates over whether or not my mother is “Resting in peace”, and that I should simply forget, or “brush off’ what I have not been able to do. For the latter of my quest for closure, I did believe that she was resting in peace, and because of that I did not rock the boat, while the basics were not being done. I stayed silent and to myself. It was astonishing to see the contrast between her way of doing things for us, vs the way things were being done, self-serving, self-centered, insensitive to her needs, and the relatives who loved and know her before us. It seemed all too convenient, and the quickest way to not have to deal with her as she was, prior to her untimely passing, because she was at her weakest and most vulnerable, and she was not being cared for or protected, or validated. And by validated, I mean her mental illness battle, had already become a burden, and she was treated as though she should not have it, and that I found extremely unfair, disappointed and very sad. This is not at all the approach she took, especially in her day to day tasks while raising us, giving back to her legacy, is showing respect to her, and God for the blessing of a good mother.
Continuing from where I left off..She was always creating, bringing something useful, fruitful, out of whatever she had available, a trait of hers I observed as long as I can remember. After her passing, I made sure to uproot the small tomato vines from her garden, that were still thriving, to give to the relative, who cared to keep it growing. There is so much that she provided us, as a blueprint to assist us with life, based upon the seeds she planted.
A blessing, we could not have asked for more, and I truly felt appreciative to God, for helping me understand how to accept the physical loss, although my heart was breaking slowly. My spirit felt light and relieved, feeling in tune with who she really was, more than I ever had before. Feeling centered, feeling as though the leader that I’d always had inside of me was finally activated. I truly wanted to show her and God, that I was actually listening when she spoke in her poetic, yet gently blunt manner. Her efforts were not in vain, nor was her time and energy. This is, and was the most important, to me at least, for this is what builds and molds a person into who they will or may become. I thought that if I had children, I most definitely would apply the lessons that she left me with, to the best of my ability, this I vowed to do, and I thought this would help to preserve and protect her legacy. It is said that culture is passed down through the mother, so if I inherited, and learned some of the best of her character, then this I will leave here as well through actions.
I was okay to do what was needed, regardless of all of the negative and counterproductive behaviour all around me, which took the focus off doing what was best for her, and us.I was moving accordingly, being in the moment and that was perfectly fine and okay, and dreams were not my point of reference, although I always take all of my dreams and visions into account. They sometimes help and guide me to a degree. The one dream that helped me the most, I may have mentioned in a previous blog, this is the dream that I had in the first week of her passing. I remember she appeared standing before me, as her younger self, looking to be in her early thirties, she was a heavier, chubbier in the face, and her hair was pulled back like she used to wear it. I was happy and to see her, feeling comfort and relief. I noticed the room was white, and there were some my mother’s ancestors, that passed on, sitting in the background. I told her that I was trying to do the right thing, and I was not sure what else that I could do, while receiving great opposition. She told me that what I was doing was right, and I should continue on, and not worry about the others. I was going to anyways, and I appreciated seeing her, my confidence was boosted, my purpose not in vain.
My friend brought a question to me the other day that had me contemplating the cards that I’ve been dealt in my life…….She had a very intense fight with her parents which left her feeling abandoned. She needed help, after a very traumatic event took place at her home, and they felt her request for support was too much too handle…. This wasn’t the first time that they reacted this way, but it was a wake up call, because she was terrified and her fears were treated as an inconvenience. The natural reaction would be to go to your parents, Right??? That’s what she said to me. I agreed. I would’ve did the same, if mine were available. That’s the truth. After telling me all of this, she asked me, “What’s better, having NO parents, or parents that treat you like THIS???” I paused and pondered what she said…It truly touched me…..
I used to imagine what life would’ve been like had my father been a consistent presence as a parent in our household. I wondered what life would’ve been like for all of us, had he made different choices back when we all resided in the same household…..My father was still alive, but he hadn’t been around since I was a little girl for reasons I’ve explained in previous blogs…After mom passed away, I felt parentless for the first time in my life…..
My friend’s question was a very valid one, because it forced me to look at how blessed I truly am at this point in my life. I made it to my adult years with at least one that always was there for me, regardless of the magnitude of the problem. Loyal to the tee, through all of her problems too…..I miss that. I miss her…..
I’m certain that I’d prefer NOT to have parents that are there, but aren’t there for me when I truly need them, as opposed to having none at all…..The grass is greener, she thinks I have it easier, but I always thought she had it easier.
…..After our house was raided I knew that life was never going to be the same, the scene I witnessed is ingrained in my memory as if it happened yesterday, but I’m going to save that story for another blog. The raid marked a turning point in my life…..I distinctly remember fleeing our home with my mother and siblings wondering, What’s going to happen next??? I was shaken up and shocked, yet calm and quiet. I was only five years old, too young to fathom what was supposed to happen next but I knew life as I knew it was NEVER going to be the same again…..
We ended up at my Auntie’s apartment, where we waited and waited…..I didn’t ask my mother anything…I glanced at the television and the evening news was on, then I saw my HOUSE! I saw my house and our neighbours house and front yard, to my dismay, I was speechless…..I just stared at the screen as the reporter spoke, words I understood, but didn’t know what it all meant….I thought to myself, I’m NEVER going to live there again, things are never going to be the same again…And I was right.
My toys, my bed, my room, I had to leave behind with no explanation…That’s just the way it was. I went with the flow, along with my siblings. I wondered WHERE and HOW we were going to live. In a matter of a few hours my perception of home had changed.
From that point on we were homeless. We ended up moving around from place to place, hotels, motels, and shelters for a long time….There’s waaaay more to the story, but I’ll continue in another blog….Stay tuned…..
My email was hacked a day ago, and if you’ve ever been hacked before you know how annoying it is to have to clean up the mess that ensues. My contacts received a very brief email stating that I needed help, and had an attached letter stating that I was in a foreign country stranded. Getting hacked really sucks. You have to cover all bases to ensure there’s no more damage done. On top of that, respond to ALL the messages and phone calls you receive.
Eventually I was able to see what the actual email looked like. It was very funny to me because although the email was very brief, it wasn’t written in my style. Some friends and family members were unsure if it was really me, which I found disappointing. I thought they’d assume it wasn’t me, just from the way the “subject line” was written. Ironically the people who did notice said that was the first thing they found fishy, they told me that it didn’t “sound” like me. Some friends directly contacted me asking if I was okay but didn’t mention the email, which proved to me that they wouldn’t take an email seriously before they asked me what was going on. It warmed my heart that one of my famous friends from the USA offered to send me money and help me, I texted him and confirmed that it wasn’t me, it was a hacker, I’m okay!. I heard from a relative who I haven’t received a call from in a year……It was strange to me because she chose this time to call me, stating that she was a little worried by the email. I expressed to her that it shouldn’t take an incident like thisto see if I was okay…..The call was awkward but I think she got my point.
The weird part about all of this was that those who I thought truly know me, really couldn’t decipher the real ME from an obvious hacker…..
On a daily basis I take notice of the “little” ways we humans dehumanize one another in this modern society that we live in. In the News we watch other countries deal with war, genocide, famine etc. and that has desensitized us to the way we dehumanize each other in “little” ways daily.
I’m very sensitive to others pain, and I don’t consider my pain to be more important than somebody else’s. This has been a blessing and a curse at the same time, and I knew this at a very young age. My parents always told me this as well. It’s a natural part of my nature, as natural as breathing, but sometimes in this society it’s viewed as a weakness. I accept this fact, and I’ve figured out ways to deal with it, and of course, I’m still working on it. That being said, I feel the need to address the recent events in the media, and how WE as people, are contributing to dehumanizing one another by disregarding each other’s experiences. Social media has given us a platform to say whatever we want, whenever we want. It’s brought out the worst in people because they are untouchable, behind a screen, unknown, without a face and no consequences. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and it irks me when I see people hop onto another’s page, and argue with them on who has it the worst…..You have the right to FEEL you have it the worst, but who are you to fight, slander, attack another because they are detailing their own experience dealing with social injustices? This is a very disturbing trend, and when I see it, I try to stay clear of it…..
I have more to say, but I’m going to try and catch a few hours sleep before I start work. I just wanted to get that off my chest.
An argument with my sibling almost tempted me to revert back to my angry defensive ways…Back when I didn’t know my limits, when I expected more out of people, especially those who I share the same DNA as me….Yelling in my face, threatening to “beat me up” won’t move me….I am beyond the petty immature behaviour. I wouldn’t back down from my stance. This has happened before in the past, when we were younger, but we are not little kids anymore. We are full grown adults, and I had to defend myself, without being violent. I had to remind myself that I’ve come to far to go back into that childish behaviour….I don’t even feel the need to prove myself or argue my point, however I will defend myself without hesitation. That’s the “new” me that “they” aren’t used to yet…. I know I am right, because I’ve been through it for years….All of the confrontations brought to me became easier to deal with, to get past…Like a video game that I’ve played a hundred times, and now know the levels, what to expect at each “Level”….I built courage in myself while coping mom’s passing, moving forward and building my adult path, deciding were I wanted to live, what I wanted to do with my time, what type of people I would put myself around…..Everything changed at once, all of my bonds, what I was used to, were literally was removed from my life….I chose to accept that having stones thrown at me, was worth the pain if I was going to be true to myself…..
I have been Tested, and I’m even sharper for the next one that comes around.
Dawn Lovely says.................. 