It's been fourteen years since Mom passed away. I turned 40 the year Mom was diagnosed with the brain cancer that would kill her nine months later; I turned 54 last August, and despite the passage of almost a decade and a half, there are still moments when Mom's death seems to have happened only yesterday. Looking back at old photos of Mom, both healthy and sick, can trigger the tears. Otherwise, enough time has passed that I'm mostly back to living my life, laboring in obscurity in southeast Seoul. The years grind on; the pain has faded somewhat, but it's never far beneath the surface.
I wonder what Mom would think of her sons now. My brother Sean is married and living as a professional musician in the Chicago suburbs. My brother David has risen in the ranks of the PR company that he's worked for for well over a decade, working as a jack-of-all-trades (and a manager) in the creative department. I'm finally pulling in decent money working in publishing; as of December 2020, I paid off all my scholastic debt, and I've walked across mainland South Korea five times (plus once around Jeju Island and a spur of the Nakdong River). I wonder what Mom would say about my having had a stroke in May 2021.
While part of me would like to believe she's still there, watching over me somehow, I don't know what to believe on that point. I see her presence in the cosmos flowers that line the trails I've walked; Mom loved cosmos flowers. But flowers are only a representation of Mom—they're not Mom herself. What I wouldn't give to be able to talk to Mom again, to hug her, to listen to her laugh. Her absence still hurts.
Goodbye, Mom—fourteen years gone. I love you.
Trivia: my friend Bill Keezer would yearly send his kind thoughts about Mom and her Yahrzeit, but Bill passed away last November.
She'd be proud of her boys--that's what moms do. And the love for a mother doesn't fade no matter the years. In that way, she lives on.
ReplyDeleteI dreamed about my mother a few months back; she was here in the Philippines. That's a long way from heaven, but I'm glad she is with me in heart and mind.
My deepest condolences on this anniversary of your mom's passing, Kevin. Can't imagine the pain ever really goes away. Well, maybe this year I can since it's been exactly 54 weeks to the day since my mom passed. I know they say time heals all. Well, they're wrong. The wound has only festered and grown septic. And all the moments when I suddenly remember, "Oh, that's right, mom's dead", are like being sucker punched right in the nose. Only an uppercut to the jaw would be less painful; or at least easier to endure repeatedly. At 42, even with four kids and as many jobs, the pain, the tears, the rawness and absolute darkness of it all, is only ever a split second away. Ready to pounce. Ready to hit me like the proverbial falling brick, my very own ever present Sword of Damocles, just not as sharp so as to draw out the interminable suffering. Once she was gone, I realized there are two types of people in this world. Not male and female, not white and black, not red or blue, but those lucky enough to have their moms alive and everyone else. And sadly, we're in the latter group. So what then is left to us condemned to motherless misery? The consolations of philosophy? The pleasures of the flesh? A downward spiral marked by depression and depravity? Not a chance. We both know neither of our moms would have stood for that. So, let us instead forge onward, higher. And, at every stop along the remaining journey, however long it may be, until we are inevitably reunited in that deep, dark blackness of eternity with those who first gave us life, let us remember. Remember them. The good and the bad, the love and the heartache, the smiles and the sadness. All they really wanted was a witness. To say they WERE (italics). To say, daft as it still sounds, that maybe they still ARE (italics).
ReplyDeleteI'll leave you with a simple song that has comforted me many times over the past year. From the soundtrack of Coco.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3iDxU9eNQ_0
Full lyrics below. Have a listen, have a cry, and recall the memories.
Remember me
Though I have to say goodbye
Remember me
Don't let it make you cry
For even if I'm far away
I hold you in my heart
I sing a secret song to you
Each night we are apart
~
Remember me
Though I have to travel far
Remember me
Each time you hear a sad guitar
Know that I'm with you
The only way that I can be
Until you're in my arms again
Remember me
~
Remember me
For I will soon be gone
Remember me
And let the love we have live on
And know that I'm with you the only way that I can be
So, until you're in my arms again
Remember me
I didn't realize your mom had passed. I'm so sorry. Thanks for the kind comment.
ReplyDeleteI'll send my thoughts along as well, even if I am a little belated.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Charles.
ReplyDelete