Golden Thread

Most days I struggle with the idea of why I am here amongst the mountains. What is the reason for such hardship? And I catch myself feeling a bit dramatic. On the other side it always feels less scary than when you are sitting in the hospital room holding your mothers hand wondering if she even realizes you are there. Only to discover later that she doesn’t remember it at all. Was it important for you to be there? Did it really even matter? I remember my brother saying to me well what’s the point she probably won’t even remember that you were there. The experience I can’t describe the numbness that traveled through me like a virus when I saw her blank stare, her ability to only mutter “hi”. And it wasn’t even clear if she knew who I was. It was too painful to feel in the moment. It was so surreal that I don’t have any words to describe it. I’d been itching for DAYS to get on a plane. But I couldn’t comprehend how bad things were. My brother kept telling “she’s fine she’s just in a lot of pain”. In the aftermath, she wasn’t fine. And I can’t get this detail out of my head… she almost died. And I had everyone telling me it would be fine. What would have happened if I had not called my aunt who then called my uncle who is my mom’s power of attorney? I don’t want to think about it. But I can feel the trauma of losing my father has overshadowed my experience of crisis. Yes naturally this is where I run too. I fear everyone and anyone could drop off in a second. And I don’t expect anyone to understand my fear. I don’t expect anyone to understand what is like to stand vigil by your mother’s side not understanding what you can possible do for her. I gave her water in those first two days. That was about all I could do. I asked questions. I took care of her the best way I knew how. I know it was enough. But these are the unspoken, unseen pictures of my life. The things that will forever be held close to my heart. The things that I do not know how to vulnerably share with anyone else. And I am coming to the conclusion they are not really meant for anyone else. Bathing my mother in the shower is for me and her alone. The details are for us alone. But what are the feelings? The rawness of feeling that I was being abandoned once again. The feelings that these are the things people don’t want to hear about, don’t want to sit with. I saw friends run the same experience I had when my father died. I saw people run back into their lives as I sit seeped in crisis. But you know, there a lesson here for me. It is okay. It is a deep lesson of remembering at the end of the day we are all we have and that is precious. And the most beautiful gift I can give myself in these states of crisis is not necessarily calling anyone but sharing the deep, vulnerable, raw feelings with myself and owning them.

For in these times of loss. There are no words, there are no real comforts. I find myself turning to food to mend my broken heart. But it only takes it further from me. I find that though I feel the earth beneath me and the sky above me. I am alone. I find that this is something society and people are frightened of. And yet I feel as though I am being beckoned to surrender into the void. The void filled with fear, uncertainty, grief, loss, and so much more. In there I will find myself. I will not find elsewhere, I will not find it on a friend’s shoulder, it’s in the void with the emotions I fear that I will find my true golden thread. The one I have been searching for.