There was a part of me that thought all of this would be easy. There was a part of me that was honestly happy to see her go - selfish, inconsiderate reasons. Having her off my back, and no longer feeling the responsibility and guilt of looking after or not looking after an endlessly ill Mother.
I can recall a time when I was younger, asking the powers that be to take her. I said it was because she was suffering, but deep down, I just didn't want to live a life with half a Mother any more. One that could barely walk down the street, let alone come see where I work, or come see me play hockey. It's funny how something so simple can become impossible. I see people around me becoming embarrassed or annoyed with their parents' questioning or their parents' supposed interference with their lives. And while if I had seen this 2 years ago, I would agree with them. Back off Mom and Dad...this is my life, you've had yours.
But now, I would give almost anything to hear my Mother ask how I am. I would tell her that her passing has left me lost. Has left me questioning what happiness is. Has left me searching for something, but I haven't the foggiest idea what.
I would ask her to put her arms around me and I would ask her to tell me everything will be okay. No, I would beg her.
This world she has left me alone in bombards me with constant reminders. I could drown out the emotions with video games, weed and fancy laptops with wireless connections to the rest of the world...but for those of us who balance the weight of the world on our shoulders, running will only get you so far.
We are the emotional fugitives, fleeing like a guilty prisoner. The world has its eyes and ears open, and will not allow refuge.
Words escape me as easily as grains of sand through fingers. Emotions rattle through me like flashes of electricity.
I long for simpler times when Xbox and QEW traffic were my biggest obstacles. How did I end up here? When did life get so out-of-hand?
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