Thursday, September 15, 2005
for a friend
I specially dedicate this story to a friend of mine named, Rahmat.After hearing your story,i altruistically structured it in my post since it's hallucinating.
Loss and healing
When i was nearly seven years old I was just a mere bit of a boy.Short straight hair framed my happy little freckled face and my lively black eyes looked at everything in curious anticipation of delights to be.
I was a happy carefree kid...until the day i fell.It was a bad fall.I landed on the bed of sand while i was sliding down a playground slide which cause my left arm to fractured miserably.Trying to save the arm, the doctors injected some medication and bandaged it,making my arm looked so huge like a human with a gorilla's arm except that mine didn't have much hair.The attempt had caused me to be hospitalised, but my mother, in all her wisdom, found a way to heal it faster by keeping me accompany through the cold night by lying with me in the hospital bed.From the corner of my eye, I held my eyes to her face and a pool of emotions came pouring in.Though i was still mentally raw,i felt the love she spread across my heart.The care and possiblity she gave was incomparable to the days i will be missing her.
Months passed with only traces of memories flooding my mind.It was in the morning when I was awokened by a pat and soft voices of my father.I delibrately opened my exhausted eyes and noticed he's expression,it scared me.Something was wrong. ''What happened?Tell me what's wrong,"I pleaded.He held his tears back firmly.Then softly and slowly words came out of the mouth.My mother had suffered from a massive cancer and kidney failure that morning.I delievered a nonchalant expression.It was nothing to me,since I was too young to understand the issue.When i asked if she was okay, my father shook his head.She had died.I slowly sat down back on the bed.Reality crept in; tears filled my eyes and steamed down my face.I felt a whirlwind of emotions: shock, fear, confusion, anger, hysteria.I was lost in emotions never before conjured.
The cancer finally left her body when she was in her thirties and never returned.We shared the joy of life after cancer when she soared like an eagle into the academic world, excelling in everything she touched.My mother learned how precious life is and had fought to the end to hang on to every morsel of it.Cancer then stepped into the background of our lives.
Up until that moment, my life had been like a strand of bright and colourful Christmas ligts.With my mother's death, one bulb was ripped out and the entire strand went black.I was seven and unable to put my life back together.Life became confusing.I felt robbed of my innocence and identity.I was faced with emotions that I never had to deal with before.I constantly faced new obstacles and tasks.I forgot who I was, where I was going and how to move on.Each member in my family had devised his or own technique for dealing with our loss.Nomatter how they chose to grieve, I knew their method was more effective than mine.In my grief, i felt inceasingly isolated.Looking back,I realize that strangely, i had become comfortable in my dark,unstable world.I began to feel safe;I was lonely and sheltered in my nest of hurt and discouragement.
I don't remember exactly why or how I began to climb out of misery.My friends and family were huge contributions.With their help, I broke tasks into smaller steps.I learned to handle my problems differently.It took time and plenty of willpower, but eventually I pushed myself out into the light.I came to realize the importance of every moment and not to take life for granted.
Now sixteen, as tragic as the experience of losing my mother was, i feel that it has pushed me to become a stronger person.Life is a gift, and even through pain and complexity, I realized that i cannot and will not give up; I will not abandon my identity.Today i feel that i have developed the strength and knowledge to grow and mature.I have learned to respect life and all of its blessings.My mother remained out of focus,a shadowy figure.I think my mother would be proud of me.
A contribution
marfi @ 12:06 AM