So my mother’s three-month anniversary of passing and birthday all lined up into one day. What can I say about three months into grief? It still hurts and many people have forgotten this invisible wound I carry because life goes on. I visit her often, but not every day. In month one and two I was all about adorning her final resting place with the carcasses of cut flowers to send a message to any passerby “This person is missed. Loved. And visited often.” Who cares what other people think? Other people aren’t missing her like I am . Now I visit, talk to her, and pray for us all.
I am finding myself suppressing or ignoring my thoughts when my mind blesses me with memories of her. I ignore it in order to make it through the day. And I’ve leveled-up in my grief and unlocked a new fear. I know there will be a time where her presence feels distant in my life. I will carry the memories but her voice and laugh will be an echo in the distant between us.
I’ve been watching ghost stories on TLC and I have a different perspective now. Before it was to scare myself with the paranormal. Now I am searching for clues of believability because I want the confirmation that something behind our world exists and the not that the person on the show is lonely and seeing things.
Lastly, been questioning the life I built. I am not sure if I am unhappy in certain aspects of life of if I am in grief. Probably both. Soon, I need to reassess my future. I shouldn’t have watched Roadrunner, the Anthony Bourdain documentary. It made me questions my life and my aversion to adventure. Also, I changed my location on a dating app to London, UK because sometimes my over colonized mind thinks British accents are sexy. I deleted it within 48-hrs.
Shaheda “Dolly” Miah-Haque is my mother and I hope this experiment we call life will reunite us again. I know this is scattered. I write awkward because I am awkward. Whatever.