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.
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 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.
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.
Continuing from where I left off.. I am a piece of the puzzle that needs to be completed, just as I am a piece of both of them, therefore my effort is not in vain. I can at least do this for my Mother, for when she was alive, she did wish and desire this for us.
I thought this was a normal part of the grieving process, so I did not expect the struggle, battle, or to have any negativity attached, because she did NOT carry that energy when she was alive. She did not make life harder, or stressful for others in fact, she actually made life easier, therefore her example should be followed, so I thought, and this will preserve her legacy. I was deeply hurt, and disappointed that her graciousness, at the least, wasn’t reciprocated by the ones who received the most from her. I am still deeply hurt and disappointed, asking myself, How could it get to this point?? Why was it even allowed to get to this point?? Practically erasing her legacy, her hard work, dedication and effort, everything that she built, even the garden that she planted, fertilized, and nurtured to bring forth healthy vegetables and fruits.
I remember eating the tomatoes that grew from her garden, they were very delicious, and I could taste the difference compared to the grocery store tomatoes. I was impressed at how great they came out, considering her garden was so small with not the best quality soil, due to our seasons. 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.
The message was not just for me, it was for all of us, so, I made sure to share it with my father, as I thought he needed to hear it. More so than me, and perhaps he will be able to decipher the meaning, even better than me. Since he has been reaching out to us on a consistent basis, which has shown me how dedicated he is to doing what he knows is best for Mom, who diligently worked trying to do her best for us. My dad relayed this to me, and I was happy to hear it, it gave me hope that we can and will, move forward collectively.
I decided last year, that I would do my best to try and understand these circumstances from his view. This has helped me forgive, and heal, to a certain degree. I strive to remain consistent, and empathetic to the pain and struggles that they went though, as getting older has helped me to put myself in their shoes as young parents. Although they were in their early twenties when they started to have us, they did what they knew was best at the time. It’s not easy to make these decisions with perfection without children, so I can understand they were both winging it, as I did (with much caution) in my early twenties. There were so many instances where I tried to make sense of what was going on with him, because his actions did NOT reflect that WE were his first priority. When I grew up and realized that I did not ever expect much from him, yet still trusted him when he was in my presence, then I would at least give him the chance to do what a father is supposed to do for their children.
I am a piece of the puzzle that needs to be completed, just as I am a piece of both of them, therefore my effort is not in vain. I can at least do this for my Mother, for when she was alive, she did wish and desire this for us.
I felt comfort and peace, realizing within a few seconds, this is what’s been missing in my life. Her presence gifted me a feeling of hope, as though ANY and EVERY problem would be solved without struggle or strife. It wouldn’t take a decade to solve a challenge that could be solved in a day, nor would it take so much pain, caused by deliberate push back.
Her caring, productive energy, so forward-thinking…I felt she truly was trying to help us, such an uplifting and inspirational energy. She usually doesn’t speak to me in my dreams, not that she needs to, but I always understand and know exactly the message she is trying to bring to me. She was standing in front of me, holding up a set of lovely curtains that she made herself, I knew this automatically, because she was quite the seamstress when she was alive. Upholstering old pieces of furniture, making them look beautiful and classic, which always blew me away. This was a natural skill she had, that I did not inherit, but always respected and admired her for it, which I told her when she was in the flesh.
Behind her was an array of curtains, of many different, styles, patterns and colours, beautiful, and looked of quality. I thought, How did she do so much work, in such a short amount of time?? And why did I assume that she had less time? This is the thing about dreams, they can immediately make sense, or have you questioning, with logic, which you’re really not supposed to do, because dreams do not always walk straight…
My spirit told me that Mom was trying to show me something, and it was beyond the curtains, so when I awoke, I made note of the dream, and made note to tell my father the next time that we speak on the phone. This was a dream that had a message for ALL of us, and she deserves reciprocity for all that she did for us, with a clean heart. I will continue in my next post, Have good night and Good sleep!
It was nice to take a different route, I love looking out of the window, seeing areas that I grew up, and haven’t seen in the longest time, until an important task or errand takes me out there. Bringing me a feeling of comfort, safety, curiosity, slight confusion, and beautiful nostalgia. I’ve felt at times as though I tripped back in time, and I’m trying to makes sense of where, what and how, I ended up in a particular place. I continue trying to piece together, pieces of my childhood that I feel as though are missing, or fragmented. I strive to figure out where they fit, like trying to complete a puzzle. I was telling my Auntie this, as we drove down the Gardiner Expressway, and I was taking in the the “Grass Art”, and the advertisement logos, that have been there from back in the day. I explained to her that every time I see them, I flash back to sitting in the back of a taxi cab, at night, gazing out of the window as cars speed by, capturing the night scene, the waterfront, the grass art, the vibe of the city. And, although, I do not know where we are going, I do not ask, and sit quiet with the rest in the back, fighting heavy eyelids, trying to stay awake, until we arrive at our destination, because waking up in an unknown place can be a tad traumatizing. Do you remember those days, as child? Falling asleep during a loooong car ride, and being woke up to a different place, space and time? As your Mom gently touches your shoulder, and rocks you to wake you up, your eyes slowly open and you felt as though you were sleeping for centuries, like a sleeping giant from from the children’s story book…
Moments and memories embedded in my soul, the city awakens in me, regardless of the occasion. We touched down many diverse spaces, due to circumstances that were beyond my control. I was innocent and not old enough to grasp the magnitude of how much we endured, along with Mom, alone, and how it must have been from Mom’s point of view. She modestly navigated areas of the city, diverse spaces, with us gathered around her, while she pushed a stroller with a small baby and a toddler, walking beside her, walking in front of her, holding her hand if she had one free to hold. Watching her carry bags, along with a baby bag, just to run a simple errand…Damn…It can be challenging doing it alone, car-less, on a tight budget, moving quickly through rush hour, on guard for personal safety, and terrible drivers! So, how did she do it everyday, all alone??
I didn’t post on that day, I didn’t go through the boxes of photos I haven’t looked at in years, I didn’t text or call anyone. I didn’t expect a call or text from anyone, and I didn’t receive one. We all know what day it was. I usually would feel compelled to text my father and say something, but nah, what’s the point. Everytime I took to my media pad to write, I drew a blank. I didn’t know where to start. I was worried that I may repeat myself and say what I have already said in previous posts.
I didn’t feel sad, just uneasy, slightly frustrated and disappointed. It felt “off” to me that I was calm, yet tortured by my thoughts at the same time. After all these years, WE are still not able to collectively acknowledge that day. The reason why, is what I still have not been able to shake, it bothers me, especially on that day. The reason “we” don’t speak of her collectively on that day, is because of the negativity, the awful behavior, and the messy aftermath that ensued years ago. I am absolutely embarrassed that the closure I feel I have reached, is haunted. I still feel as though, her legacy has been sullied, because of others guilty conscience. She still does not have a burial site, a place where her mother, siblings and friends can go to pay their respects. We still can not come together and celebrate her and all the good that she selflessly brought to our lives.
A few weeks ago, I had a very random short dream about her, and she spoke to me. I woke up feeling surprised at what I dreamt, yet assure. I hadn’t had a dream of her in a long time. The dream was a little weird, but not for a dream. I usually would not feel comfortable or open to share a dream like this, but I now I want to. It confirmed and validated my feelings about that day. The day had not come yet, but I was given a message, a message directly from her. In my dream we were sitting on the ground, facing one another, with our legs stretched out in front of us, and the soles of our feet pressed together. She then proceeded to ask me to change her socks, and I did so. It was a funny request, but she rarely asks for anything, and I didn’t mind of course, she’s Mom. I woke up thinking, Wow, I actually saw her, and she SPOKE to me! I felt assure, but wanted to confirm what the symbol meant, the “socks”. I looked it up, and the socks meant what my instincts told me they meant, “comfort”.
Her message made me feel confident, and relieved, and know why she asked me to do that. I shared me dream with a few people who are close to me, and they understood the significance. So, as the anniversary of her passing fast approached, the dream lingered in my subconscious. On that day, I knew what we all should be doing, but it’s going to take more than my words to do it. I am so tired and emotionally depleted from trying to explain, why it’s so important that by any means necessary we do what should have been done ages ago.
On that day, August 30th, I was quiet as a mouse and incognito as usual. I felt silly and foolish, yet again, feeling absolutely alone and stranded with my desire to break the spell after almost a decade.
I thought to myself before posting a short dedication on my instagram, what type of child would I be, if this didn’t bother me??? For she was my mother, the only one I’ll ever have.
I understand that in this age, social media is therapeutic for many to express their feelings. Maybe it’s just me, but posting on social media is not my first thought after hearing news of a loved ones passing. Devastating news takes more than a minute to sink in, and death is the hardest to process. I’ve expressed my opinion in the past, regarding what I consider irresponsible use of social media RE loved ones. I am naturally a reserved and shy person to a degree. It took me years to get used to posting daily, especially my actual current thoughts. I don’t mind sharing, but it’s important to process your thoughts, so you can understand them, before sharing. The problem with death, is that everyone process death differently, and folks may get you twisted, based upon what you do or don’t post. I’ve witnessed a few celebrities be attacked or trolled online for posting “too late” on the passing of a loved one. I find that completely insane. It astounds me how relatives of celebrities deal with the passing of their famous relatives while the world posts their face. I do understand it comes along with the territory, but imagine not knowing that they passed away, and that’s the first thing you see! That would be difficult to deal with, for me at least.I couldn’t imagine total strangers re-posting info and details that I didn’t know about, especially when the news is fresh. About a week ago, I found out a very close friend of the family that was like family to us had passed away in a fatal car accident. I had to contact a relative to confirm that the news was true. The feeling of not knowing frustrated and annoyed me. It’s wrong to find out about the passing of a friend or relative via social media because it you can’t trust that the info is true. It’s the same as seeing a post about a celebrity death on a blog site or social media. You don’t necessarily know if the news is true, it could all be hearsay. Folks don’t hesitate to post, or re-post a story without fact checking first.
It’s horrifying to unknowingly log into your social media account, instantly see a photo of a friend or relative, with a blown up photo on your screen with the caption “Rest In Peace”.
This is all my opinion of course, I don’t expect my friends and family to feel the same way however, there’s nothing better than direct contact when handling mourning. I love to celebrate what that person brought to my life, with the people who knew and loved them best. There’s nothing better than the real thing, and talking about the best they brought to our lives keeps their light alive.
I’ll leave it at that for now, this is never an easy topic to write about but I hope you find the logic in my thoughts.
Dawn Lovely says.................. 