From within

I have been getting the same questions about my mother and I have been giving a standard reply.

 

“Not good.”

 

That about sums it up. 

 

Some of them give a follow up question and I give my standard follow up answer.

 

“She lost a lot of weight.”

 

And losing more by the day, I want to add.

 

Once in a while, when time permits, I give a little more update about her condition or share an anecdote about my recent conversations with  my mother. 

 

But rarely do I get asked this.

 

“How are you?”

 

Maybe because some think that it is a ridiculous question that doesn’t merit an answer. Maybe because some find it uncomfortable to ask a question that is too personal.  Maybe a few think that I didn’t want that question asked. 

 

I think maybe they are right.  I don’t want to deal with that question.

 

I don’t even want to know how I am or how I am coping with the idea of losing my mother only a year after losing my father.  In fact, I rarely ask myself any question. 

 

No, I have not numbed myself.  I can feel the wealth of emotion just beneath the calm and controlled exterior.  I just refuse to let vulnerability creep in because I might not be able to keep a lid on it. 

 

So I protect this wall, making sure all cracks are covered up.  During unguarded moments, it may not matter who is in front of me.  I just might let the wall cave in and allow the rivers of emotions flow.

 

One thing though, I haven’t had an unguarded moment since January last year.  Only before God in prayer have I let my control down.  But even that takes so much effort.

 

The feelings are too profound.  No words can be enough.

 

Recently, a friend asked me the standard question and I gave the standard set of answers.  We were on a train en route to a Manila so the moment allowed us to talk some more.

 

What my friend didn’t know was, those thoughts only dawned on me as I say the words.

 

“I think that is why I didn’t want to do anything or to go into anything new. ”

 

Dealing with the pain of a dying parent is too big a deal that I try to protect the status quo in an attempt to lessen the impending blow.  It was my last vestige of control.  I just wanted all other things to remain unchanged.  I don’t want to rock the boat when the waves are already strong enough to tip it over.

 

My friend understood, I think. 

 

Although I am aware that it is pointless to take control, I suppose that it is my attempt to cope with grief. 

 

So if you want to know how I am – -- ?

 

Let me just say this.

 

I am deeply sad.  I am angry as well.

 

Maybe if you look hard enough and if you are quick enough, you will see that flash  of sad look in my eyes.  Maybe if you listen well enough, you will hear the sad tone behind the funny rejoinders, the brief silence after a laughter.

 

I guess I prefer it this way.  Let us go on with our usual and at times mundane conversations.

 

And just let me grieve in private.