To be honest, this year has been a pretty bad one. Weird really, if you consider that since I turned 18 I’ve had this strange notion that the year I turned 23 on the 23rd day of the 2nd month, that it would be somehow special or lucky. That it would be my ‘power year’. Needless to say, life turned out differently.
This year has been both painful emotionally and painful physically. It’s been filled with disappointment and with sadness. It’s been an all-round horror story. My family and friends have had their fair share, and I will admit that not all the bad things have been my own personal suffering. But sometimes it’s the very people we love and who are hurt that bring us the most pain, because we are sometimes unable to lift them out of their sorrow, and the helplessness stings.
On Tuesday the 6th of February, at around 16:00 the Plettenberg Bay Airport lost radar contact with the Italtile Ltd company aircraft. Nine people left a gaping hole in the lives of many, many more as they stepped from this world into another and their lives became memories. My mother knew them all personally, and amongst them was her best friend and confidant. Her friend left a space so big that it would take countless others to fill her place. In truth, it never could be filled. And holding the position she does, my mother had to sit, for months afterwards, and deal with other people’s grief, confusion and anger. Between 8am and 5pm she couldn’t feel her own grief, her own confusion, her own anger. But when she got home, often late, she did. And all I could do was sit with her.
Do you understand the pain of being helpless to remove someone else’s hurt? Do you know what it’s like to watch someone you love crumble inside like an empty building decays whilst the façade remains? It shouldn’t have been as bad as it was, but when you’ve buried both parents, and your husband, and when you’ve been in a church for funerals more times than you can remember, it gets to you. I have never met anybody as strong as my mother. And whilst I don’t deny that there are people who have experienced worse, and overcome more, it will always be my mother who defines courage, determination, perseverance and love.
A few months later her niece committed suicide. They weren’t close, but she stood by her brother and her sister-in-law and offered as much as she could. They were fortunate enough to have a strong support network and whilst they struggle still, they know that they are loved and supported.
As facetious as it sounds, my academics took a dive. My own personal standard was not met and I felt both disappointed and frustrated. Objectively, I still did well. But my future is riding on the marks that I achieve and the next year, possibly three, are determined by my ability to impress those whose job it is to judge my performance. And so achieve I must. But I did not. Not like I hoped I would. And now, it comes to the end of my year and I have failed to gain access to my ‘plan B’ whilst ‘plan A’ doesn’t look hopeful. And there’s nothing I can do about it now. Such is life, I guess…
Cheyenne, our 13 year old Rottweiler, and the last living reminder of my stepfather, passed away. She died of depression. As laughable as it may or may not sound, she starved herself into heaven. She recovered from her operation well. She wasn’t in any pain. She had no infection or complications. She just wouldn’t eat, or drink. She just wouldn’t live. And to think that just a week beforehand she was running circles around our little Jack Russell terrier. I’m not really a dog person, but I can honestly say that she had the most caring nature of any animal I have ever encountered. She was as much a part of our family as I am, and my mother took it hard. Yes, we have a new companion, who actually lived with Cheyenne through her last days. He was probably the last things she saw. But he’s no replacement, nor should he be.
And just today, a few hours earlier, I dropped my stupidly expensive phone which will cost a stupid amount to fix and which I would be stupid to pay. But such is life, I guess…
There’s no moral to this story. It just is. Life continues. The birds are still chirping in the dusky light outside. The rain still falls softly. I have many things to be grateful for.
I have my family, whom I’m beginning to appreciate more and more.
I have my health.
I have new and old friends.
I have a new love in my life.
I have the good fortune of a roof over my head and food in my stomach.
And in the end, what’s past is past. It will only live with me as long as I hold it.
“Consider how much more you often suffer from your anger and grief, than from those very things for which you are angry and grieved.” ~Marcus Antonius
No comments:
Post a Comment