Mama, A Painful Memory.

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Memories. Painful memories. The world just can’t get enough of them; I can’t get enough of them.
I lost my mother 9 years ago, and I sometimes believe that it was my fault that I let her slip away. However, this is not my story. What I really want to get out of my system is how those painful memories of her are rushing through my mind, all at once.

I was looking through my Mama’s stuff the other day – clothes, shoes – yes, we still have those; and I stumbled upon things that I’ve never seen before, things that overwhelmed me with tears. I found my own baby clothes, and I was surprised how Mama never told me about them, how she never showed me any of them. It’s not my old clothes that upset me, but the fact that she kept the little things while I’m forced to give away her own. Because we’re redecorating the house, we have to throw away things that we don’t need anymore, things that are old and rotten.

Are Mama’s clothes and shoes things that we don’t need anymore? Are they unnecessary? After 9 long years, they might be for my family, but they never are to me. Whenever I see something that belongs to her, I instantly remember her. I remember her freckled face, her straight red hair, her elegant smell… I remember everything she did for me, and I remember her love. But I never remember her voice.

Sometimes I feel like the memory of her is slipping away, and I try so hard to hold on to it but I never succeed at keeping it locked in my mind. And after the redecoration, I feel like I’m losing her forever. You see, everything was exactly as she had placed it before her death, and now it’s changed. I lost her touch on things, on me, on my heart… I feel hurt and angry at God, and at her. I feel like when she died, I died too. And I did, many times; whenever I see something of her belongings, a part of me dies. My heart and soul die everyday, because they’re attached to her; they live in her memory, her spirit and her voice.

I can’t feel Mama around the house anymore because everything is new, misplaced, manipulated by the workers, by my father, by me… I don’t want to lose her more than I already have, and honestly, I feel like I’m pushing her spirit away, like I’m kicking it out.

How do I tell my father that I missed her so much without being ashamed of it? How do I tell him that I don’t want to lose those painful memories, because somehow, they keep me alive? How do I tell my sister to help me give away Mama’s stuff without being afraid of hurting her? How do I tell my brother that I found an old painting of him that Mama kept safe, untouched? How do I tell myself that it’s okay to let her go and move on, it’s okay to get hurt at the sight of her belongings, it’s okay to miss her so damn much? How do I tell myself that no matter how hard I try, she will never, ever, come back to me?

Will I ever stop longing for her? Will I ever stop longing for her memory?
Please God, tell her to wait for me, no matter how long, because I’m coming to her.
I love you Mama, I love you so much.


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