I lost myself when I lost my mother

It's funny how when our loved ones passed away, life still goes on, people expect you to work the next day and things like that. They don't care whether you are happy or sad, as long as you get the job done.

Everyday, we have to rush to work every morning, and come back "home" every night. We are being called to contribute to the economy, rewarded monthly with "money" that contains no value, for days and months of hardships and sacrificing the time we have together with our loved ones. The days that we spent time on work more rather than our loved ones could never get back. 

What do we seek for in this modern century? A society that chase after the desires of materialism.  Must we always fall into the chains of a modern society, obliged to contribute to economic growth, and be deemed "normal"? Or rather to spend on what's more important, the priceless value of our loved ones.  

People kept saying, ‘It gets better after time passes by.’ 

It did at some points. I could go on for days without thinking too much about the fact that someone I still loved as dearly, my own mother was dead. But to expect grief to ‘heal’ is to imagine it is possible to stop loving.

People who haven't lost a parent would probably say "move on" or "try to be strong and recover soon." Being strong is just seen on the outside, but they don't know how much my heart is crying on the inside, wishing, hoping, praying that God would give me another chance to turn back time. Sometimes, I just wish that everything was just a nightmare. I have wished for that a lot of times. but still, life goes on.

The loss of my mother can become like an "elephant in the room". Wherever I go, people see and feel the situation that I'm in, but no one dares to talk about it. For the rest of my life no matter how much time has passed, I will always notice the empty space it leaves and especially more at special times.

As days and months passed by, I had seen my mother and the reality of her death was beginning to intrude in new ways. Somehow, yet deep within me, I still believed she was coming back. Deep down, I felt she would, through some imagination or picturing her silhouette of her in my house. Grief is not linear. It doesn't comes in a single moment and it's gone after that. It turns out that it comes in waves, which ebb and subside at unexpected moments.

I still think about my mother every day, but on most days the grief is lighter and less oppressive. With my mother’s death, the person who brought me into the world left it, leaving an empty void in me, a door left hanging open. Sometimes, it's hard to live with the one you love. But in the end, it's always even harder to live without the one you love.

The horrifying scenes were so clear on that day when she passed away, as I walked into the hospital room and found her dead. Truly, there is no greater horror then this, to know that the only existing woman, who holds the title of being called a mom, the irreplaceable one, was dead infront of me. I have lost faith on that day onward. I found it especially difficult coming to God and believe He's a good God. To come to Him and being expected to worship Him and praise Him after my mom was dead, was seriously a daunting task. Yet all my friends are all joyous, saying that the taste of the goodness of the Lord was good, miracles happened and people got healed. As months goes by, I fallen deep into despair, it was therapeutic, yet I know I need to get out if it. I've come to a point that I've embrace death. 

I found it so hard and difficult to connect and appreciate the good works that God has done, really. In fact, most of the times when my peers around me gave thanks to God, I looked at their lives, no hardships and difficult trials, all their parents were alive, Christians as well. How bad life can be for them? Of course God was good for them, the roses were blooming, birds were chirping and the sun was shinning on their side. Most perhaps the difficult problems they had were to deal with bad grades in school. Sure they may have several problems, but I assumed that none of their problems were great enough to shake their faith and disbelief in God. 

But it's funny how I still believe God still exists, that He sent Jesus to die for me. I still believe he's good, but I felt so disconnected from God. Somehow, God was meant for everyone except for me. It's hard to throw away the knowledge of knowing God in the past, because it's difficult to discard something once you know about it.