Every time I have to write about my personal pains or the loss of a love one, It is described as my pen bleeding, even though these days I very rarely write with an actual pen, you know, with having accesses to high tech mobile phones, tablets, laptop and PCs.
Still, I like to be identified by a pen because that was my original choice of tool when I started my writing career, and today my pen bleeds again.
My mom is dead!
Yes, that’s what I said.
Today, my mom passed away.
Well, she’s not actually my mother she’s my wife’s mother, but to be honest, I never really knew her name, well I knew it, but I have never referred to her by her first name and I never referred to her using her last name neither; come to think of it, I’ve always called her Mom, so in all accuracy, let me say again, “Today, mom died!”
She was 83 years old, lived a long eventful life and gave birth to six children, all girls, and I was fortunate to marry the baby of the lot. Plus she’d been married to dad for more than 52 years; wow, right?
So I’ve always thought too, and me and baby girl sat that milestone as a reachable marker for ourselves too.
Mom had been poorly for years, tough as steel I usually say, that’s from the numerous amount of times she’d been in and out of the hospitals and we thinking that we’d lost her, but no, every time we thought that, old girl pulled through to be here for us one more time.
However, today it wasn’t so, no hospitals, no drama, just a long lengthy sleep.
When I got the news, I felt pressured with the responsibility to break it to my wife and son, it was as if an apple was stuck in my throat. I was afraid to say it, but knew that I had to. I was wishing that at that very moment, some magical force could change the reality and give Earth another day or another week with mom, but again it wasn’t so, and I had to utter the sad truth.
My wife wailed in sadness and my son muffled his pain as much as he could, until tears seeped from his adolescent eyes.
Me, I was still struggling with the apple in my throat, trying to stay strong for them while suppressing my own tears.
But in the midst of that, at a split second, I thought, “C’mon, why moan?”
And after giving it thought, I realize that mom’s passing was a beautiful story in itself.
She lived a fulfilling 83 years, had 6 children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren, she never lived to see any of them get buried into the ground and she found a matrimonial bliss which lasted until her passing; two rare luxuries, which are only achieved by few humans. And although mom was sometimes alone, she was never lonely, the walls of her home is overran with her life’s journey and memories, photographs of family members and events, which framed some particular treasured eras of her life, gifts and personal collectables, legacies of mom’s existence.
The last time wife spoke to mom, she was out of breath from just walking to the phone, and after questioned, she suggested that her time was nearing, but amazingly her suggestion was without fear and duress; it was as if she was welcoming her long last sleep.
Old girl was tired, and as much as she’d like to hang in there one more time for us, she just couldn’t; not this time.
I will miss mom, miss her timeless smiles, miss her words of wisdom and encouragement, I will miss her resentment for family feuds, the Peacemaker that she was, and I will miss being silly around her just to get a little more of that sunshiny smile she possessed, but I will not cry, at least, I will try not to. And I will try to model her life and hope that my wife and I will make her just as proud of our union as we are of hers with us, dad and the extended family.
I’m sad that my pen bleeds again but I write with joy in Mom’s memory.
Bleeding Pen 