So I finally saw "The Descendants." ( Spoiler alert by the way...) I'm not sure why no one had explained to me how appropriate this movie was for me to see. Appropriate for anyone who has lost a loved one suddenly, with no warning, in a way that leaves the survivor nothing but a trail of complicated emotions to figure out. I feel like I've been floating on this solitary island in the middle of the ocean being the only one in the history of "loved ones lost" that has such complicated , conflicting and confusing emotions about the death of my mother.
Well, "The Descendants" drove fiercely straight into the bulls eye of the heart of that exact topic. Like no movie I've ever seen. Exposing the deep, dark and ugly side of being angry at the one who died for actions they did that betrayed you. In the movie, the husband ( George Clooney) only finds out his wife had been cheating on him after she is in a coma and is not expected to recover. And their relationship had been strained for years for which he was experiencing extreme regret. And they have two daughters who have to process this as well. Whew...heavy shit. Then the movie dives straight into the deep end of the pool of the messy side of life. But what really struck me was the fine, delicate, fragile, volatile phenomenon that occurs when one doesn't have "closure" with the one who died.
Let's talk about "closure" and the lack there of it. My mother died alone, in her house, suddenly within minutes, unexpectedly on a Monday morning. Monday, March 7 to be exact. The one year anniversary just passed and I basically stayed in bed for a week being inexplicably tired. Hmmm ...wonder why? I leaned on Xanax for a bit but that just numbs me out more and I miss my juicy, sparkly natural energy. Even if it is wrought with anxiety at times, at least anxiety is energy. Excitement even. But I was trying to just feel better. Trying to cover up the constant undercurrent of sad that exists in me from this sudden YANK of my mother from my world. Trying to numb the constant feeling that on March 7, someone cut off one of my limbs. Trying to hide from the voices that keep telling me that I'm a horrible person, a bad daughter and a basically worthless person.
Because something more insidious than just the "loss" or "absense" of her is what has been really dominating the depths of me. What has really consumed me and eaten me up is all of the unfinished stuff. Recent frictions not fully healed, plans never realized ( our trip to Europe - she never got a chance to use her passport...ever), harsh words said to her now ringing in my head in a thick cloud of regret and shame, ways she supported me that i never fully got to pay back, and accomplishes of mine that she will never get to see.
But accompanying these regrets of mine, is anger. Anger at her. Anger at her for certain things that I found out, after her death, that she had done and said that I didn't know about. Things she had said about me, untruths she spread to justify her emotional states, information she kept from me, opinions and comments about my mate, her inability to ever really share me with anyone else thus making it virtually impossible for me to have a successful relationship, and irresponsible, selfish demands she put on me her whole life. Keeping me basically chained to her...
This huge buffet of unfinished tangled topics and emotions are mainly attributed to the lack of "closure"with her. It is a HUGE bunch of stuff to have piled on you on top of the sheer shock of the person suddenly vanishing from your life. It made me think that the natural slow deterioration of the human body as it gets older is nature's way of sending out the signal to everyone that this person is starting to fade, and will be out of our life soon so now is the time to say everything you want to say and clean anything up with this person so you can say goodbye with peace, calm and ease. Allowing you to continue your journey in this lifetime with a clean conscious and settled karma. So it feels like a cruel suckerpunch left hook when the person is just yanked away with no warning at all. Why why why??!! I kept asking myself that. WHY? No warning? No phone call that she's in the hospital so I can run to her and be with her, hold her hand, look her in the eyes and tell her I love her. So we can clean up this nonsensical garbage that might be lingering between us. Nothing??!! It's almost unbearably frustrating at times.
And then there are the people who say they can "feel" their deceased loved ones around them "all the time". Little signs in the house that they've been there. That the person talks to them. That the presence of the deceased is always there. Well I've felt none of that. The only thing that comes remotely close is my cat, Smokey. Who was hers. Whom I bonded with very strongly the night my mother died. Smokey was probably right next to my mother when she slipped away. The only one with my mother when she slipped away. I slept with Smokey every night at my mom's house while I was handling all the details. For three months, Smokey and I hung in there together and got through it. I simply had to adopt Smokey and keep her with me. We became war buddies in this unexpected tragedy. There for each other every night, comforting each other's pain. Sometimes I wonder if my mom is in Smokey because they have similar tendencies. She wants my attention all the time. Prefers when it's just she and I alone. Is extremely attached to me. Wants to play with me and only me. I swear to God, this cat is the closest thing to my mother I've felt.
But in reality, I think my mother's soul is long gone on the next journey. I think she's frolicking, playing free and I don't think she's here with me. Maybe I'm wrong, I hope she can do both. I hope she can frolic about in wonderland and visit me as well. But I haven't felt her visit me. And it has just made me feel that weird lonely isolated island feeling when I hear everyone talk about all the times that they feel the deceased around them. I'm jealous. I call bullshit. Why dont I feel that? Is she ashamed that she left me with a bit of a mess? Is she afraid to come around? Do I have to fully forgive and be at peace before I'll feel her? Do I have to create my own closure before she'll visit me from the far away magical land she's flying in?
These questions float through my head every day. This big luggage bag follows me around to my gigs, shows up in my songs, causes tears out of nowhere and is basically causing me to reinvent myself. Reincarnate if you will.
Is this the lotus flower evolving out of the mud?
Is this the new growth after a burn?
Is this what we're really here to learn?
Is this the love we have to earn?
Is this the juicy part of the path?
Is this beyond math?
Will i learn to simply choose love? It's so hard when drowning in mud?
When I'm in the most tender place, blanketed in soft grace, the only air i feel, is hers to help me heal...
I miss you mom, I will always love you. And I want to fly with you in that magical land...some day some day...
