365 days calligraphy challenge: follow your heart

calligraphy: grief

‘I want to swim again’

said my late mum to her oncologist when at her stage-4 cancer, he asked what is it that she wants to do (to encourage her). Fight she did, but she never got the chance to go into the pool ever again.

What is it that you want to do even if it’s just a simple thing—but you are giving yourself excuses not to?

Or, are you questioning ‘does it matter to do what I’m doing?’

I question myself many times about my role in the church office. I question my blogging; writing about God. I question myself even over this 365 daily word thingy. Does it matter? Will it make a difference to other people?
Hubs told me, ‘Even if you do it, you may not know in your lifetime whether it will matter. But if you don’t do it, you will NEVER know and will live with this niggling thought. Maybe even at your death bed; regret.’

So.
Swim.

#day3 #dailyword #dailycalligraphy #noregrets #makeadifference #365

Perhaps I never take the time needed to grief properly. Is there a proper way to grief?

Life is so busy that we can’t afford to fully grief.

EVEN GRIEVING IS SOMETHING THAT I CAN ONLY DO WHEN I HAVE THE TIME.

Find a weekend to grief. Find an hour on Monday to grief. But there’s always things to do, dinners to attend, ministries to serve in, a certain pattern of daily life to live so that the families living under the same roof won’t be affected by my sadness too much, smiles to put on…

Is it a luxury, an indulgence to just want to be alone, not having to go to office, not having to worry about work that depends on you to complete, not having to tend to husband and daughter, not having to be careful of being nice to them because really, I just don’t want to answer you right now… to just grieve.

What if I just want to cry the whole day? Write the whole day? Pray the whole day? Be alone the whole week? What if I just need to do what I need to do fully grief?

At the back of my mind, I would think, well, it’s too late now. Too much at stake with your work. Who would be able to do them??
Who would do the news? Who would update the site?? Who would coordinate whatever it takes to keep things moving??

Back to same thing. Even to grief, it seems that I need to carve out time to do that.

Grief. Grieve. How do you bloody spell this word anyway???

After watching Saving Mr.Banks

Just watched Saving Mr.Banks. Until I make peace with the knowledge that everything in this temporary world is, well, temporary… I would always go on living in fear of losing people I love to death.

Until I make peace with the HOPE that because we have accepted Christ and therefore death is ONLY the beginning of an eternity… I will only know of the hope, but not live it.

Watching ‘Mr.Bank’ died in his bed with the young Helen Goff standing there, stir up image files of me standing inches from my mom as she drew her last breathe.

I too, like Helen Goff need to put an end to replaying the painful memories and replace them with our happy times. Images of how beautiful she looked. Images of us… I can’t find the happy files, I’m sure they are somewhere in there.

I still can feel…

I miss you terribly Mummy.

I still can hear your voice saying ‘ love love you’ to me

I still can smell your familiar sweet smell

I still can feel your soft hands as I held them

I still can feel your eyelashes as I kiss both your shut eyes

I still can feel the warmth of your lips when I kiss them

And I still can feel the coldness of your lips as I kissed them after your last breath.

Goodbye mummy. Till we meet in Heaven, I love you forever.

  • back dated post November 30, 2012

All road leads to grief

Back dated post 22.11.2012 10:14am

I think I can understand why people get angry in challenging situations.

It’s one of the defense mechanism.

It’s an ‘easier’ feeling than to face the knife cuts of your heart.

Get angry, blame someone, blame God.

But where does that leads to?

Grief

In those times, who then can you rely on? But God and God alone.

So I chose not to entertain anger. I pray that I don’t fall into the devil’s trap.