Today is the two week anniversary of my mother’s last breath. A point in time when everything shifts past a point of no return. The nest is gone and you sail through the darkness on insubstantial wings. The lore of your family is now sloshing through the sieve of your brain. Little anecdotal details that you erroneously boasted command of in terms certain knowledge recede into the fog of mental suppression, The routinely expected dialogue has concluded and you are left with silence in a land of emotionally scarring thorns. Everything in the hoe is a source of mental anguish. A potent reminder that your loved one is not returning now, or any time soon, or ever. The furniture, the knickknacks, the pictures on the wall along with a mounting layer of dust bespeak a sense of spiritual vacuum as if a fissure has developed somewhere within and all the oxygen is being evacuated from the vicinity. You go around choking at every instance of recollection as you attempt to disturb the previous order of things. Cleaning things that in the past you would have never thought to touch if only to take them from the spiral of a past tense then and recover them cleanly washed into a safer more bearable now. All the while, you try not to think of her end and how painfully terribly hopeless it was. How you sat beside her unable to stop the heartless gears of the system try to interlope with the relentlessly strong current of the universe causing a lasting turbulence that in all likelihood will never diminish within you. You wish you could rekindle those feelings of love and happiness that you didn’t realize were so extraordinary but now are tainted with the sewage of regret and remorse. That moment approaches in the midst of night when the most incredible of all transformations occurs with a final breath/ Your mother is gone from you. What is left in her place is a foreign object that slowly cools down to inert useless flesh. A solemn effigy that if you dare recall it, comes home with you to cork your experience of all that has come before.
The Second Week Anniversary of Your Mother’s Last Breath