Where are you?
Dear mum,
I'm afraid of dying.
I know it's a heavy, morbid subject, but I can't seem to escape the thought lately.
Aunty Betty passed away on Friday the 13th. (October) Who wrote that script?
I feel selfish, because talking about her funeral with dad, all I can think of is your funeral. It's the last one I attended, and given it was yours, I was never not going to think about it. But with the family getting smaller and smaller, it's stuck there in my throat; spilling out in the middle of the night.
"Joey," I shoved him awake. "Joey, I'm scared of dying."
"You're scared of dying?"
"Yes."
"You're not going to die. You'll be okay."
He fell asleep again, and I continued to stare at his back. I thought about you, how sudden you went, and then I feared the same happening to me. To dad. To Joey. Oh God, where do we go? Will we all meet again? Will I ever feel a mother's hug again...
Mum, I don't ever want to die, but I don't ever not want to see you again. Will you meet me at the door to wherever you are and welcome me there when it's my time? Is there room for us all? What's the deal with God? Is he there? Does he talk to you?
I talk to God sometimes. I claim to have lost my faith a long time ago, but that certainly isn't true. I still believe, and hang on to hope, that he really is there and his plan isn't as shit as I deem it to be. That there's sense to it all. I whisper to him in moments of defeat - not asking him for anything, but cursing him for how he runs things. Is that bad of me? Will that make me unwelcome where you are?
Where are you?
Do you remember the last picture I took of you? You didn't know I was taking it, and you were just staring up to the sky. Was he talking to you then? God. Did he know it was your last picture, so he caught your attention for a moment, while I caught you; an image to remember, to look at and not see the sickness you were hiding. You looked so well.
Mum, how does it happen? How can someone look so well, in fighting spirits, and then just fade so suddenly? Is it like a candle flame? Burning bright until there's flickers, and then... out. I don't know, but I need to.
Wish you were here...
I'm afraid of dying.
I know it's a heavy, morbid subject, but I can't seem to escape the thought lately.
Aunty Betty passed away on Friday the 13th. (October) Who wrote that script?
I feel selfish, because talking about her funeral with dad, all I can think of is your funeral. It's the last one I attended, and given it was yours, I was never not going to think about it. But with the family getting smaller and smaller, it's stuck there in my throat; spilling out in the middle of the night.
"Joey," I shoved him awake. "Joey, I'm scared of dying."
"You're scared of dying?"
"Yes."
"You're not going to die. You'll be okay."
He fell asleep again, and I continued to stare at his back. I thought about you, how sudden you went, and then I feared the same happening to me. To dad. To Joey. Oh God, where do we go? Will we all meet again? Will I ever feel a mother's hug again...
Mum, I don't ever want to die, but I don't ever not want to see you again. Will you meet me at the door to wherever you are and welcome me there when it's my time? Is there room for us all? What's the deal with God? Is he there? Does he talk to you?
I talk to God sometimes. I claim to have lost my faith a long time ago, but that certainly isn't true. I still believe, and hang on to hope, that he really is there and his plan isn't as shit as I deem it to be. That there's sense to it all. I whisper to him in moments of defeat - not asking him for anything, but cursing him for how he runs things. Is that bad of me? Will that make me unwelcome where you are?
Where are you?
Do you remember the last picture I took of you? You didn't know I was taking it, and you were just staring up to the sky. Was he talking to you then? God. Did he know it was your last picture, so he caught your attention for a moment, while I caught you; an image to remember, to look at and not see the sickness you were hiding. You looked so well.
Mum, how does it happen? How can someone look so well, in fighting spirits, and then just fade so suddenly? Is it like a candle flame? Burning bright until there's flickers, and then... out. I don't know, but I need to.
Wish you were here...
