A Passing…
I will be writing this post in greater detail, a eulogy fit for the occasion.
But I would be remiss if I did not share what has happened.
My mother has passed.
I’ve known that the day where she would no longer be with us was coming. I’ve tried for years to come to grips with how I would handle this very moment. I’ve cried more bitter, angry tears than I know what to do with.
In the silent moments, when I had tried to putt her passing from my mind, the whispers would come. She would die, and there was nothing anyone could do. She would suffer, and my only recourse would be to stand sentinel. A candlelit vigil for years, a deathbed that whirled through season after season, and always my mother withered. Always she lost.
I’m not sad, now. I don’t know that I have sadness left to give, grief yet to find that hasn’t already made itself known. More than anything, I feel a profound sense of relief. She’s beyond her condition now, beyond where the pains of dying slowly can reach her. More than anything, we had time to say goodbye. I am eternally grateful that I decided to go to Thanksgiving this year. It was her last, and she was in a good place. Despite how much it cost to be there, I’m glad to’ve paid the toll.
More than anything, I wish my mother could see what her most wayward child will make of himself. I don’t have the most time left to me on this earth: I’ve taken too poor of a care with my health for that. But in the time I’ve left, I have every intention of announcing to the world exactly who, and what, I am. I will soar in the days that are left to me, and I just wish she was able to see it.
I know that loss is not unique, and that all of us have stories of those we love who are no longer with us. Please, take a moment and share your own story. I promise I shall guard them with the dignity and poise they deserve, but I wish to hear the stories of those we have loved and have lost. I think it lets us all know that so long as we remember them, they are not fully gone.
Motherfully,
Justin Wallace
