Posted in Inspirational



Grief is such a confusing emotion. I grieved for several years, from when mama lost most of her memory and her character changed from being a kind, gracious woman to that of an angry, violent woman. I grieved for the mama I lost, the friend who I could share stories and movies with; I grieved for I could not see my caring mama. I grieved for the lost conversations, the lost moments of laughter and intimacy. I grieved because mama could not see me as the daughter who love and cares for her; to her, I was a prison warden who monitored her every move and regulated her medicines. I grieved for several years.

The day came when she was too weak and her body and spirit wanted to rest. On that day, grief was silent. On the day we laid mama to rest beside papa, I had no tears. My cousins shed the tears that I did not have. They expressed the sorrow in my broken heart. I did not grieve, not when I was expected to, not when I should have.

In the weeks and months that followed, I packed and disposed a lifetime of possessions and memories. Try as I might, I could not be objective about the possessions. Everything seemed trivial and yet it was hard to let go. A dress, a shawl, a hairbrush — all had memories, all bore mama’s print. How does one compress a lifetime into a box? How does one let go without having pangs of guilt? There were no tears, but grief was in the periphery of consciousness, silent and foreboding.

People grieve when they lose someone they love. Very true. I lost mama years before we laid her to rest. I grieved back then. I anguished for the mama I knew was trapped inside a cruel disease. I grieved that her last years on earth was full of anger, confusion and fear. But all is over. It has been almost a year since we laid her to rest. I have not grieved since then. All I know she is at peace and that she is in a better place. Now, there is no reason to grieve.



Chronicle of adventures taken with my Lord Jesus. Meeting life's unexpected surprises with new eyes and a grateful heart.

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