I grieved most when my mother died. It was inevitable - God knew! So, He let the path of prophet Don and mine to cross a year before He took my mother away from me. That is, to lessen the impact of her death. Shortly before the year she would pass away, Don forewarned me already of a death of "someone very close" to me. Don never said it blankly. He smelled flowers! It could mean a wedding (!), he said, or a hospital (!!) - or a funeral (!!!). I began to dread.
How close was I to my mother?
Let me tell you a bit of my childhood. This story was related by my mother and my aunt who happened to be our nanny then. I can even remember it. I mean, the crying I did and the smell of my mother. I would cry profusely and uninterruptedly every time my mother was away (say, in company with my father for business trips in the provinces.) Father managed a family-owned shoe company for provinces in the South. Aunt would give me my mother's used house clothes and pillow to sniff. That, she did to pacify my little soul and put me to sleep. How fragrant and calming her smell was! I was at peace.
Why was I so close to Mama?
I was breastfed until I was weaned. Breastfeeding, truly, gives a mother and a child a strong soul connection. I read it somewhere that babies grow healthy once breastfed by mothers. But I am sickly. Family curse, again, determines one's future - unless curse is broken. So, when my mother died, I cried to the point I thought I would die. It was a delayed reaction. My body was trembling - every bit of my cell! I sat helplessly on the floor. I was calling out "Mama" in the wake in front of the coffin. "Only she could understand me!" - was my lamentation. "She will no longer come back!" - was the thought of my heart.
Was it about six years ago?
How close was I to my mother?
Let me tell you a bit of my childhood. This story was related by my mother and my aunt who happened to be our nanny then. I can even remember it. I mean, the crying I did and the smell of my mother. I would cry profusely and uninterruptedly every time my mother was away (say, in company with my father for business trips in the provinces.) Father managed a family-owned shoe company for provinces in the South. Aunt would give me my mother's used house clothes and pillow to sniff. That, she did to pacify my little soul and put me to sleep. How fragrant and calming her smell was! I was at peace.
Why was I so close to Mama?
I was breastfed until I was weaned. Breastfeeding, truly, gives a mother and a child a strong soul connection. I read it somewhere that babies grow healthy once breastfed by mothers. But I am sickly. Family curse, again, determines one's future - unless curse is broken. So, when my mother died, I cried to the point I thought I would die. It was a delayed reaction. My body was trembling - every bit of my cell! I sat helplessly on the floor. I was calling out "Mama" in the wake in front of the coffin. "Only she could understand me!" - was my lamentation. "She will no longer come back!" - was the thought of my heart.
Was it about six years ago?
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Time has passed. And my grieving came to pass. I burned the CD and the VHS videos of the funeral. My sister complained. "Why keep those things?" I said. "Mama is no longer coming back! It is us who will be going to her someday."
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