Tag Archives: Death

Emotional Overflow Error

26 May

I didn’t expect graduating from University would rouse all these feelings and yet here I am crying at 1 am. The last weeks have been stressful and that’s okay, it’s the final stage of writing my thesis and that’s bound to be a difficult time without a lot of sleep. I’ve had too many feelings of inadequacy that could fill an entire post on it’s own. What hits me right now though is that I miss my Mom exponentially more than before.

I miss going downstairs and telling her how I feel and that it seems like I can’t do right with this thesis. I miss going downstairs for a hug that would be full of love and making me fell infinity times better. I miss my Mom. Period.

I thought it would be better by now but on the contrary, my feelings are working overtime even though I could really do without them. The thing is, she should be here. She should be able to see me graduate, leave school for the first time in my life. And she is not.

Today I got a call from my uncle because I haven’t called in a while (so have they but whatever) and that’s because I was busy falling apart and piecing myself back together while I struggle through writing a thesis on a daily basis. There has not been a lot of time for anything lately (like blogging or theatre). He asked me if I had put beer in the fridge and I assume this was because tonight was some big soccer match. I don’t care about bloody soccer though and I don’t like beer. However, here I am hours later obsessing over the fact that nobody knows me anymore because the person that knew me best is dead. Sure, Grandma knows me very well too, but it’s different. And I don’t want to take this out on her because it hurts her too. I cannot hurt her. Uncle asked how I was doing. As if I’d spill all my feelings over the phone! We haven’t spoken in weeks and you expect me to tell you all about my emotions and insecurities that are on high alert right now. I’m graduating next week so take a wild guess as to how I am!

It’s not his fault but I am not okay right now. I honestly didn’t expect it to be this hard. Maybe that’s why I didn’t put too much effort in my thesis in the beginning, I was stalling, trying to avoid this final step of migrating into a new stage of my life. A stage my Mom should be part of. She should be here, cheering me on and being happy when I hand in my finished work next week. No amount of wishing can bring her back and all of this is highly irrational but that doesn’t make things less painful right now. I just want to turn off all these feelings but naturally I cannot.

Instead I am sitting here, crying, rambling incoherently while Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah is trying to soothe my inner turmoil. I cannot wait for it to be Friday. 5 days and everything can calm down again. I can socialise again because that’s what’s additionally fuelling these feelings. Being lonely because I haven’t seen a lot of people lately. I didn’t have the time but it’s very isolating and counterproductive. I have no problem with being alone, I’ve always cherished it but being lonely is something else. Too many emotions at the same time.

All I need is 5 more days without all these emotions and feelings. I am a very rational being who’s not used to all this irrational crap. My brain and my heart are in different universes at the moment making me the emotional black hole of feelings. Just ugh!

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Where Can I Reset My Dream RAM?

15 Mar

I’m used to dreaming a lot of rubbish and watching Doctor Who is not always helping my dreams being more realistic these days. For instance, I recently dreamed I was the Tenth Doctor and dressed as a waiter on some weird space-ship. I don’t remember what else was happening because after I got back to sleep my memory started to fade away and the next time I woke up again I had the Alanis Morissette song I listened to the night before stuck in my head.

It’s also not new to have one dream element recurring over and over again; it usually happens before exam periods where I cannot move fast enough while I’m chased by murderers. Lately though, there is one recurring element I could do much without and I don’t exactly know why it’s there or when it will leave again. I’m dreaming of my dead Mom only that she is not dead anymore. SAY WHUT??

Yep, she is alive but not in the good before-cancer way, more like cancer-free but still as helpless as with cancer. In those dreams I know she is dead and then she comes back and I again have to take care of her. It’s not scary in a “OMG my dead mother is still alive” kind of way but more of an annoying “OMG again with the taking care thing?”. I don’t wake up screaming because for a moment I thought her death was all a dream, no. My subconscious is always aware of her death. I’m actually glad to wake up because I know it was only a dream, that I won’t have to relive my worst days.

I don’t know a lot about dreams, I never had psychology classes or stuff like that. Nevertheless I believe to have a good grip on myself except for that one time but this, I don’t get just yet. Maybe it will leave me again soon but as I don’t understand where it came from, I will not know how to get rid of it. Stress dreams disappear once the source of the stress is gone but with this? I can only wonder if it has to do with my anger loosening even though that hardly makes sense to me.

As I write this I see multi-coloured particle clouds rising to the sky as a visualisation of feelings moving on. I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense at all. I probably watched way too much Doctor Who in addition to not even being able to adequately describe what I see. Maybe my memory is regenerating?! Ok, I’m just gonna stop here hoping that putting thoughts to paper will get rid of them. It usually does. If not, I’ll be stuck with these weird dreams for a while longer as much as I could do without them.

I Miss You. I’m Strong.

13 Feb

I didn’t even give you a present last year because I was too busy taking care of you, of the house, our lives and myself. Do I regret it? Not really. I’ve never believed in material presents. While it is nice to get them, what do they really say? – “Here, I tried to come up with something so you feel worthy to me.” That has never worked for me. Just bake me a cake and I’m fine. Write me a card and I know you were thinking about me. I don’t appreciate expensive gifts because they imply that the value of a gift correlates to the value of the gift-givers love for you which is just stupid.

Do you remember the time I drove you crazy because all I wanted for my birthday was the complete works of Shakespeare and some obscure Russian literature and you wanted to give me something special?  You didn’t understand how special books are to me. Sorry, this is not supposed to be about me but about you. Oh heck, it’s about both of us.

You knew I wasn’t saying I don’t love you less because I didn’t have a gift for you. You said it was okay. And what do you give a person you know is dying for their – what you presume – last birthday anyway? I was at a loss and to be honest. I don’t even remember what we did on this day last year.

I remember others though. One birthday we spent on a cruise around the Emirates. One time I made you a cake and had to hide it from you because I made it the day before and I tried so hard to get the smell out of the house so you would’t know. You said, you have had no clue but was that just motherly of you? Trying to make me feel good because you knew what I did but didn’t want to spoil it for me? Guess I will never know now. Another year I gave you a poem. Not sure you knew what to make of it but it’s how I communicate. With written words not spoken ones.

Oh Mama, I miss you so much! Not that I would enjoy telling you how my thesis is progressing or what is going on in my love life these days but the thing is. You’re not asking me anymore. I’m not waiting for you to come home from work anymore. All the mess I find in this house is mine now and that is something I don’t miss at all because as much as I love you, you were also a little messy.

Today, the sun is shining. It’s cold and the ground is white from snow. A beautiful winter day. But you’re not here to enjoy it with me. Are you watching me though? Like I imagine you do? Are you sitting up there in heaven with Grandpa chatting about the people you left behind and wish you didn’t have to?

This is really stupid but I’m proud that I’m sitting here crying because for so long, I couldn’t. Even though I miss you every single day, I don’t let the sadness that still competes with anger on a few days overwhelm me. I can only let it out in bits. I am fine, please don’t you worry about me. I understand the circle of life like I understand 1+1=2 just some days are harder but they are few in numbers. You do know that this is just me me being me and not a representation of my feelings for you when don’t break down into a puddle of sadness every time I think of you. I’ve made my peace with your passing even long before you did but I also know that it’s not weakness to be sad every once in a while.

The last picture we took together.

Happy Birthday, Mama!

I love you. I miss you.

I Wish I Had Gotten To Know You Better

3 Jan

The number 13 really runs in my family when it comes to birthdays. My Mom, oldest cousin S and myself were born on the 13th of various months. My Granny’s birthday is March 1st or 1-3 so basically a 13. Today is January 3rd which means my Grandpa would have been 91 today if he was still around. Even he has a variation of that 13 in his birth date, especially if you write the date down the American way. I just think this is really cool and I cannot remember but I believe my great-grandma was also born on the 13th of some month or was it my great-grandpa? Not sure.

Happy 91st Birthday Grandpa!

I wish he would have been around longer but sadly, he died over 20 years ago and I barely have memories of him. Granny told me a lot of stories though, some of them I’ve heard many, many times and others are new to me.

After my grandparents got married they decided to start their own company which basically meant working non-stop and being poor as hell. Soon my mom was born which was a great source of joy but times were hard -money was tight. Granny says, she sometimes wasn’t sure if she could afford to buy bread or not. They worked so hard and they made it. They stuck together and just kept going and I love this but then again, they really had no other choice. Even when Grandpa got sick they managed to get through it and come up on the other side. Things were never easy for them but they became quite wealthy for the time and place. Granny’s parents helped them though, mostly with paying for food or clothes in the early days. So when my grandparents finally were doing a bit better, Grandpa got his family-in-law a TV. Mind you, those were the late 50s or early 60s so these things were rare and fantastic and a HUGE deal. As things went back then, it was some kind of deal Grandpa made with the guy selling TVs and it was meant as a thank you for everything his in-laws had done for them. They became one of the first people in their neighbourhood with a TV!

But Grandpa was not only a hard worker, a kind and generous guy, he also had a sense of humour. When my great-grandparents first got their telephone, he pranked them. Back in the days, the telephone was a monopoly  owned and operated by the ‘Deutsche Post’ our then also monopoly postal service. So after the telephone line was installed and operational, Grandpa called his in-laws pretending he was the  Post-Minister and wanted to congratulate them on their new phone line. Needless to say, my great-grandparents were flabbergasted and taking this seriously. They were beyond excited that such a busy man took the time out of his day to phone them and do something like that, just Wow! So they giddily tell my grandparents about the call and  Grandpa cannot keep it together and tells them that it was him calling. I just love this story because it is so ridiculous and cute.

Grandpa was not perfect, nobody is. I’ve heard stories of him getting drunk at parties, being impulsive, making Granny mad or happy – sometimes both at once, showing his love and just being him.

Mom was their first-born and they were debating names. I believe they settled on Dorothee so Grandpa goes to the civil registry to get their daughter registered and he comes home to Granny later telling her that their daughter’s name was not Dorothee as they previously agreed upon but Ingeborg. BAM! So much for talking about stuff that matters. With my uncle, Granny didn’t even pretend to choose a name and let Grandpa work his magic. That’s love you guys!

I believe my ability to fix things around the house and my interest in technology must be credited to him – not that he taught me to do so by himself but that it is in my blood because of him. He was a handy man and quite the inventor in his field. Most of my family is good with numbers and technical stuff – Mom studied Business Administration and my uncle has a PhD in physics. I love math and science and technology. Need I say more?!

Even though he was already quite sick back then, I was their first grand-baby and he couldn’t get enough of me. I would have loved to grow up with him more than I did – with the actual person and not just the stories. I wish he could see how the little girl he loved so much turned out – how she shares his love for office supplies and sports and so many other things, how she shares the colour of his eyes. I really hope he is celebrating the shit out of this day with Mom in heaven!

Happy freaking Birthday, Grandpa!

I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you!

Not My Place

30 Dec

Some days ago I went to visit my Mom’s grave because I haven’t been there in a while but when I finally got there, I couldn’t turn around fast enough. It’s not that I don’t miss her – because I do. Only, I felt extremely out of place. Including the funeral, I’ve been there three times now – three times in over three months.

My Grandpa died 20 years ago and I don’t have live memories of him. Everything I know is because of the stories Granny told me. There are images of their lives together in my head that I never saw but I can still see them. I remember him being sick, and then Granny wearing black clothes and skirts for a long time. I was still in kindergarten back then and I don’t remember much of that time either. I didn’t go to his funeral.

I also didn’t go when about two years later, my great-grandma died and shortly afterwards Granny’s younger brother. By then I was in primary school and I went to classes instead of the funerals. I think Mom and Granny made the right decisions there.

As I spent my time after school at Granny’s we went to the cemetery together quite a lot in order to take care of the graves. Granny always needed a moment to gather herself before leaving but it never meant that much to me. I remember it being boring and tedious unless it was fall and the leaves of the big chestnut trees were falling down, me collecting chestnuts, trying to fit as many of them into my small pockets as possible, jumping into piles of dried leaves. But the cemetery was never a place I went to when I wanted to be close to someone I lost. I never go there on birthdays or the days they died. I had other ways.

Every time I needed guidance or someone to listen but not answer or make me feel less alone I moved my gaze to the night-sky and the stars that were shining. When I wanted to tell Grandpa something, I directed it to the stars and the clouds above me. Poured my heart out to the universe. Graves don’t hold anything for me, I don’t feel closer to the deceased there than any other place except when I look into the sky on a cloudless night.

The infinity of the universe is where I believe all people go once they die. I cannot know if that is actually the case, or if Mom and Grandpa finally reunited there after Mom was called in in September. But I like to think of it that way. I like to think they can watch me and the rest of my family – keep in touch even though they cannot actually answer my questions. I know they are there, as childish as that may sound.

Standing next to their rotten corpses or burnt ashes doesn’t do anything for me. Flesh and bones are not what a person makes, it’s just a shell we need. So, no, a cemetery is not my place. I know Granny needs to go there for whatever reasons I cannot fathom, but I don’t. I have them with me everywhere I go – in my heart and the stars above me.

Out of Hibernation

26 Sep

It’s about time I move out of hibernation. The week between Mom’s death and her funeral, I barely went outside, except to meet with some people and visit my grandma, oh, well and make sure I didn’t starve but other than that? I read fan fiction (cause that’s all I can focus on at the moment…fluffy, happy ended fan fiction #sueme), spent hours on Tumblr and started watching Rizzoli&Isles again (also because of all the happy feelings they give me).

But now it’s definitely time to get my shit together so I started the week with dropping my gran off at the hospital for a little procedure and then went on to go through all the mess Mom left me. It’s really a mess. Years upon years of unfiled papers, which I’m leaving as they are now, neatly stacked on top of each other. I could spend weeks dividing and filing them appropriately. No, not gonna do that.

Yesterday I went to apply for orphan’s pension which proved to be rather annoying. Ugh, I had to fill out 5 forms, more or less the same, and get a statement from my university that I’m still studying. Of course the certificate of enrolment the university provides is not enough, they have their own little form which has to be signed and stamped by the uni. Bureaucracy, hello!! And then I had to cancel subscriptions and credit cards and all that stuff. You get the picture.

What I should be doing now, is going to uni to see my professor and ask him what he thought of my research paper BUT I’m procrastinating another day. Yes, call me lazy, I know that I am but after all the running around yesterday, I want one day of not doing anything. Which, obviously made me end up on WordPress because a new post was in order.

Also? My blog now has over 4,000 hits which is pathetic but makes me happy :-)

On account of Mom’s death, I guess I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sometimes it feels surreal but mostly it feels like nothing is different. I’m still waiting for that one day when apprehension will come crashing down on me and I’ll finally break down. For now though, I’m happy to be cry-free for over a week. It’s a welcome change.

“Hey nerds! Guess who’s got two thumbs, speaks limited French, and hasn’t cried once today? This moi!”

Now I’m out of things to bore you with. I just needed to write anything to get blogging again and that’s about all this post is about.

It’s been two days

16 Sep

It’s been two days now since my Mom passed away. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it except that I don’t really feel sad. I cried when I got THE call and the next morning I went to see my gran but after that I haven’t.

Everything happened so fast. Thursday I came back from my vacation and on the car-ride home from the aiport I called my gran since I hadn’t talked to her in a week (because my stupid phone decided to throw a temper tantrum ever after I left Ottawa) and she told me to come see my mom that day. I hadn’t planned to do so. All I wanted to do was go to sleep since I’d been up for 24 hours. Nevertheless I got into my car and drove to the hospice my mom was relocated to earlier that day.

She looked worse than when I left 3 weeks prior but I expected that. My best friend who picked me up from the airport had already told me that he believed my mom was only waiting to see me again before she could let go. As it turned out, that’s exactly what happened. So I went to the hospice and she was still awake. I briefly talked to her but she was confused a lot. When I tried to make her look at me, she only looked past me with empty eyes. It was a short visit of under an hour but I promised to come back the next day. All I could think about was going to sleep, and so I did. Slept for 12 hours before I got a call from the nurse at the hospice telling me Mom’s condition had worsened considerably during the night. I told them I’d come by later since I had some things I needed to take care of before. But I called my gran who went there immediately.

I got there around 9 am and she was unconscious, just getting another dose of morphine to calm her down and keep her of pain. It was so tough to look at her like that. Both the nurse and my gran (she’s seen a lot of people die, too many by now) informed me that it won’t be long now and they were right. Shorty before 10 pm the same day she passed away. I had only left her 1 1/2 hours earlier as my gran had settled in at her bedside for the night. I needed to go to sleep again since I’m still jet lagged. I was already asleep when Gran called to inform me. I asked if I needed to come down there but was relieved when I needn’t to.

And like that I became and orphan. Well, technically I’m not but since I don’t know where my father is and I haven’t even seen him in years, it feels like it. He’s nothing more than a sperm donor to me. My small family got even smaller. But at least I was granted one wish, that the day of mom’s death won’t be the same as the birthday of my best friend.

I could beat myself up for not feeling more sad at the moment but that would be stupid, I guess. Maybe my head is still in vacation mode and it will probably take a while until my consciousness will have caught up with reality but I also know that it’s better for all of us this way. She wouldn’t have recovered from that type of cancer, nobody ever does. I couldn’t have taken her home again because the last weeks before my vacation had taught me that I couldn’t take care of her anymore by myself. And my granny was/ still is taking it the hardest. She was alone with her the last three weeks as I got to go away. She’s been in emotional pain for a long while now but also in physical pain since she desperately needs an operation to at least relieve her of some of the pain in her knee. She can hardly walk anymore because of it but put everything on hold as Mom got progressively worse. Now we can all begin to heal again. Slowly.

My body’s been shaking since I started typing this post but there aren’t any tears left. I’m all cried out from months upon months of desperation, not knowing when and how it would end. The day Mom left for good I was so calm, so damn calm. I only cried when Gran was sitting next to her, holding her hand saying a prayer. My family is not the most religious bunch especially not my Mom but since she was unconscious it was more for my Gran. She needed it! And it was heartbreaking only my heart had already been broken a long while ago. It’s different to loose a parent, it’s the normal cycle of life but loosing your child is so much more wrong! So much more! It pains me to see Gran so sad.

The funeral is already arranged and will be next saturday so my cousins won’t need to be kept out of school a they have to get here from the south. We only have to pick a tree since she won’t be buried in a typical grave. I don’t care for graves and can’t predict if I’ll stay in this town once I finished studying so it’s the better alternative. I also bought clothes to wear for saturday. Gran wants me to dress in dark clothes for a while but I will only do so until the funeral. I don’t own a lot of black as I prefer colourful clothes and refuse to buy stuff I won’t wear later. Also, I should be allowed to be dressed in clothes I feel comfortable in, that I like and not just for the sake of a colour.

It may be silly to some of you that I had to recap this so detailed but somehow I needed to do so. Things only ever get real after I write them down, get them out. Thanks for staying with me. I foresee a lighter future for this blog and a recap of my awesome vacation in Canada.

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