When night falls, grief goes up

I noticed that the pain increases especially at night, and especially before bedtime.

I miss my mom so much. It’s almost a month! But I still can’t believe it at times that she is no longer around.

The missing part is awful. So much so that I caught my mind saying sometimes, this s*cks!!!!!
Though this kind of word doesn’t help any bit but only make me feel worse.

I miss my pretty mom. I miss her smile. I miss her voice. I miss seeing her dancing. I miss her cooking. I miss her hugs. I miss her smell. I miss kissing her. I miss stroking her short, just-grown-hair after chemo. I miss squeezing her manicured soft hands.

This is awful, simply awful.

Mom is now clothed with garment of praise

While reading Matthew Henry’s commentary of 2 Corinthians 5, I’m comforted again by these words that my mom is indeed in a very very very good place, praise Him!

Death will strip us of the clothing of flesh, and all the comforts of life, as well as put an end to all our troubles here below. Naked we came into this world, and naked shall we go out of it. But, [2.] Gracious souls are not found naked in the other world; no, they are clothed with garments of praise, with robes of righteousness and glory. They shall be delivered out of all their troubles, and shall have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb, Rev. 7:14 .3. The believer’s assurance of his interest in this future blessedness, on a double account:—(1.)

And the pace slows down

… And I feel God again.

2nd day of Boracay. The postcard-perfect getaway, so says the reviews.

Trying not to be ungrateful; for we had to go through some challenges to be able to take this holiday… But I wasn’t ‘feeling it’ until just now.

Yes, the sea is turquoise, the sand is white, the beer is cheap, the food is good, the weather is nice…
But deep inside, I’m not feeling excited, nor too joyful.

That is until 5:10 pm when I started reading “How to hear from God”.
On the beach, unplanned, music plugged in, people buzzing by.

Then it happened, the pace slows down. I see.
I see—with my heart.
And I felt tears welled up.
I felt peace. I felt joy. I felt God again.

Even for a short moment, I’m grateful.
Nothing can replace that.

God is my refuge in times of grief

I know clearly of the danger in letting the devil gets into my mind. Letting anger eats me up. Despair pinning me to the ground.

So I’m clinging on even more to God.

Praise Lord for giving me mature sisters in Christ to support me through my grief.
And also a wonderful husband, daughter, family and true friends.

But on my own, I’m helping myself to go through it in a way that helps rather than pull me down further.

I found a Bible study guide some time ago, I guess there is no better time to go through it than now.

I acknowledge my pain. Not suppressing it. I cried when I need to.

But I’m not letting it destroy me by doing foolish stuff.

Instead of seeking refuge in the world” food? alcohol? things that temporarily distract? I’m seeking refuge in God.

Only He can fill the emptiness and heals the wound.

Thank you, Lord, for being with me.

And I did scrapbooking

Another ‘I never thought’ thing.
Me? Handicraft? Make stuff without using a computer?? Nah…

But there you go. I did my first scrapbooking.

Love made me do it.

I truly enjoyed it. It seems like the only possible way for me to physically express my love to mummy. I can’t hug her anymore to show my love; I can’t kiss her.

So to the greatest lady of my life who loves her bling, may you continue bling-ing it on in heaven. Love love you, mi.

Anger in griefing

1.  12. 2012 11:49 pm

Phases of grief and anger.

As images of my mom suffering, fighting the battle, crying, breathing hard as water fills her lungs… kept floating in my mind…

I felt rage.

Despite all the will to fight; she suffers and dies.

Rage.

The kind of rage that feels like punching the wall.

Screaming rage.

Her sufferings. My sweet, lovely mom who did nothing but love others sacrificially. Suffering, crippled, gasping for air.

Tearing rage.

WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY??!!!!!!!

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. Until we meet in Heaven, I love you forever.

 

If I knew this would be the last

If I knew this would be…

The last time I can kiss you

The last time I can smell your hair

The last time I can hear you say, love, love you

The last time you can smile

The last time you can laugh

The last time we can walk hand-in-hand along the seaside

The last time you can call my phone

I would have said everything I need to say to you when you still can respond to me

“If I knew this would be the last”… is a terrible thing to say, and a terrible feeling to have.