Love heals. Love heals. It does, does it not? Love comes in so many ways, exists in so many forms, and rarely in the way you expect it or want it to be. But however love manifests itself, you should be content with what you have. Shouldn't you?
As mum's life slowly, I resolutely told myself to give my all. Give her all my love, affection and care so she can (and I hope she did...) leave this world surrounded by love and warmth. I gave my all. Not wanting anything in return, but being human and self-interested of course I hoped and dreamed that after losing perhaps the strongest kind of love one will ever encounter in life, that between a mother and child, I needed to find something to make me heal. To date, more than a year on, I am still feeling so empty, so very empty inside.
Yes, losing mum was a deep cut and trauma to my life, to my psyche. And is it too much to expect or hope for love to heal me, to protect me, to remind me of the reasons and purposes of living and life? This past year has been so turbulent, perhaps the most difficult struggle was coping with loss-- loss of loved one and loss of the certainty and promises of love.
Love heals. But I have been so painfully left wanting, longing, and looking for it in vain in strangers, in friends, in family. I cannot explain why the bag with "Love heals" stood out in the midst of so many bags in the station hall. I cannot explain why that bag with "Love heals" spoke to my heart and spoke my mind. And I cannot explain why that bag in a way seemed to be mocking me.
For so long, I feel so rejected, so abandoned and alone in my struggle to cope with grief. Why does it have to be like this? why has it been like this? Is it too much to find someone who will listen, who will empathize, who will not push me and tell me to "get on with things"? Is it too much to ask for understanding and compassion? Nowadays nobody asks how I am doing, they just assume I'm fine now because I have this wry smile on my face. People just assume I'm all right and healed now because I've been working and studying and taking exams. If only they knew how much of a struggle it has all been... If only they knew how difficult it is to fall asleep at night and find a reason to get up and get dressed in the morning...
When I think of the way so many friends have become so distant, even to the extent of saying I'm behaving and being "strange" in the aftermath of losing my mum, I cannot but feel so sad... Friends you thought were made for life cannot be/ are not even there in the face of death. Are they really friends at all? Why do I feel the need to get away so often? Why do I feel the need to find a new home and move? Because the city, the circle of friends, I have sought refuge in in the past five years have become so estranged, so very distant.
Is it me? Am I too demanding, too focused on wanting a particular way and form of love, believing and thinking (falsely perhaps...) that love can heal me, lift me up and make me whole again?
Love heals.
Heal me... I need to heal myself.
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