Mother
MOTHER.THE PAIN OF LOSS.Now I can say with certainty that I had never understood others suffering from unbearable loss of a dear person. For my part it used to be pity, compassion. When this happened to me, when my dear mother died, I started to understand all those people who lost someone they loved. There are perhaps no proper words to describe this pain, at least none used on this planet. This intolerable pain which tears you apart, which is like a stone on your heart, and which make tears run down your face with each recollection of the dear person who passed away. Time is unlikely to alleviate this hurt, no matter what others claim.
Every morning I still wake up thinking that she is there drinking her tea in the room, watching her favourite programs. Then suddenly the truth comes rushing up to me and I realize that it is just a dream hanging around me still, and a cold despair fall upon me. Despite my apparent tranquillity and surface brightness, I feel empty inside. My mother’s death was a really sobering experience I’ve passed through. It was the most devastating loss in my life.
The memory of my mother will follow me wherever I go, and however far tinting my dreams with a gentle scent of rosemary and the shimmering silver of her laugh. My mother had a serene charisma and a soothing aura around her. She was there to show me my first butterfly and my first rain. She was there when I made my first steps. She taught me to smile and laugh.
Moreover, my mother listened to all my fears and apprehensions with a gentle patience which can only be admired. She covered my winters of self-doubt and self-hate with such warm and tender blankets of caring love. Her eyes were so soft, wandering, and full of comprehension when they focused on other people. My mother’s greatest desire was only to cherish, protect, and lavish affection and care to her family. When I had really bad times, she washed me with her healing sympathy and distracted me with her brilliant humor.
Every morning I still wake up thinking that she is there drinking her tea in the room, watching her favourite programs. Then suddenly the truth comes rushing up to me and I realize that it is just a dream hanging around me still, and a cold despair fall upon me. Despite my apparent tranquillity and surface brightness, I feel empty inside. My mother’s death was a really sobering experience I’ve passed through. It was the most devastating loss in my life.
The memory of my mother will follow me wherever I go, and however far tinting my dreams with a gentle scent of rosemary and the shimmering silver of her laugh. My mother had a serene charisma and a soothing aura around her. She was there to show me my first butterfly and my first rain. She was there when I made my first steps. She taught me to smile and laugh.
Moreover, my mother listened to all my fears and apprehensions with a gentle patience which can only be admired. She covered my winters of self-doubt and self-hate with such warm and tender blankets of caring love. Her eyes were so soft, wandering, and full of comprehension when they focused on other people. My mother’s greatest desire was only to cherish, protect, and lavish affection and care to her family. When I had really bad times, she washed me with her healing sympathy and distracted me with her brilliant humor.