I’m not a writer. I think I write ok and I make sure my grammar is correct and all but finding something that would urge me to write or blog …is hard. Sometimes ideas come easy just like that *snaps fingers*, most of the time though (at least for me anyway), it’s a struggle.
I was reading through today’s yahoo news and stumbled upon an article called “The Way We Grieve Now” . It talks about people (well, celebrities mostly) maintaining certain routines or habits as a means for them to cope with their loss. Patrick Swayze’s wife still texts him “I love you” before boarding a flight…Michelle Williams did gardening…Gwyneth Paltrow didn’t cut her hair …while another woman kept her husband’s phone on just so that she could regularly call his voice mailbox.
This made me think of stuff that I did…or probably still doing…which is connected to my mom’s passing. Right now, the first one I could think of is…in high school mama once told me never to have my ears pierced (other than the 2 holes I already had). She said that it wasn’t fit for a girl to wear a lot of studs/earrings all at the same time. I secretly wanted to have them honestly…I thought it looked pretty cool & rockin’, but because mama said “no”, I followed obediently. When she passed, I figured, well I wouldn’t have any problems then if I did it now right? Surprisingly, I didn’t do it right away. Each attempt I made at having it pierced…no, just even contemplating on the idea of getting them pierced, I would always hear my mom’s voice in my head saying, “no.” And so I followed. 7 years after (in 2004) I went ahead and finally did it. I remember the first thing I said (after the initial “OWWWW!” of course) was “mama, please don’t be mad ha?” I didn’t feel guilty afterwards, so I took it as a sign that it must’ve been ok with her as well. In fact, after that first piercing, I’d gone and done it 2 times more!
There are 2 more things : one of them I don’t do anymore…and the other I still refuse to do or don’t have the heart to do…My mom and I used to go to the 5:30pm mass after malling every saturday at the Edsa Shrine Chapel beside Robinson’s Galleria. When I started working 2 weeks after she died, I continued going to the same chapel every saturday–I couldn’t remember how long I did it but when it finally dawned upon me that the space next to me was more than just an empty seat, I almost burst into tears during a mass and decided I would stop going there (which was a shame because the place was airconditioned and it was pretty nice). The other thing I still refuse to do up to this day? Clean out her closet & her “baul”. Her stuff’s still in there and I just don’t entertain the thought of going through them.
So back to the yahoo news article…it’s mentioned there that since we all have a different way of coping, some perhaps weirder than others, these actions are usually followed by shame. “Is this normal?” is the question that comes to mind after finishing the routine or ritual.
As for me, I think the shame kicks in when I need to talk about it but don’t want to talk about it…or refuse to talk about my feelings about it with friends because I would always think that they wouldn’t want to hear it. I wrote about this on an earlier post and to all my friends who read this, it’s not you…I think it’s me. I think it’s always me. I know you’d be more than willing to listen to me…we’ve known each other too long…but I have a hard time expressing myself. I don’t know what to do with my “sponge” habit of taking everything in. I don’t know what to do with me sometimes. I’m guessing this isn’t coping right? Or is it?
There it is. I had an inspiration to write on something and now that I have (especially on a subject matter that’s quite sensitive to me)…I’ve gone and lost my train of thought. I told you I wasn’t a writer. Denial? Shutting down? That’s coping…right? Albeit, a bad one.