On the Death of My Mother

I died two years and four months ago. The terrible situation shocked me, I can not do anything about it. In less than a year, it overwhelmed all my hopes and dreams. This situation is the death of my mother. Even today, when I talk about it, I feel like yesterday so I will fall into tears. I tried desperately trying to forget, which means denying that living things are happening. Every time someone asks me for feelings, I do not want to talk about it. To lose my mother means to lose my life.

In the first year after my mother died, I refused to talk about the death of my mother. The first year my mother died, when someone asked my mother (where did your mother live? What did your mother do?) I will reply. She's dead! Of course I did not talk to her! This is also totally crazy and fraudulent, I know this. Rather than explain a very good separation between a very good mother and me, it means a certain rip between terrible living mother and me.

Many bad things happened in the coming weeks, months after my mother died. Death can bring the best people (dawn, please leave my office, ride my car, plane; my boss please call me by taxi this To help me through the day it can also draw out the worst aspect.The death of my mother put a lot of bad burden on some people in my life and exposed evil.

My belief system (which can drive the smaller ideas above) was formed by my mother's tragic death and my poor cocaine addiction father for my 3rd and a half years. I internalized my mother's death and my father's crazy behavior (I believe this is a very bad thing). My father never let me down because cocaine pushed into my room in the middle of the night and tortured me and apologized. He never apologizes for not letting me celebrate my birthday. He did not apologize to say to them that I stand in front of my football team and I am a bad girl so I can not play in that week's game.

When talking to my mother that I am OK, I lied. Her death left a hole in my heart, it is very wide, it is huge. My life is now properly divided into two chapters of death of mother and life. I am like a newborn baby, and I need to learn to rule the world that I do not want to be one of them. After the funeral, I saw my mother sitting on my favorite chair while staring outside the window. I was just sitting, I climbed her knees, big belly, and everything. In all of my sorrows, I did not expect that my aunt was alone. Her all her brothers and sisters are gone. I am the only one that can tie her to the life she seems to exist only in her memory. We gather in silence while listening to the heartbeat.