Tahseenah Khatun
When I think of the future, I think of still having my loved ones around. My friends, my family. They’re all still a part of this vision I have of the future. But this vision changed around two months ago, when my mum suddenly passed away. There was a time when I thought my mum would be around forever. But now, I have to navigate a new reality without her.
It’s been nearly two months since she passed, and I still have the image of her in the hospital in my mind. That was the last time I saw her in this world before she left. That image of her in the hospital, the state of her, has haunted me since. It follows me wherever I go, whenever it wants. It pops up when I least expect. When I’m in class, when I’m talking to a friend. Nothing triggers it, that’s the thing. It’s a memory that will never leave my mind, one that I’ll never get rid of, it will always lurk at the back of my mind and jump out when it wants to. That’s the thing grief does with time, you last remember how you saw your loved one, and it stays with you forever. And it becomes a lasting memory of that loved one of that period in their last moments. You’re unable to do anything but watch them go.
Anywhere I go, I’m entering a new world, one I’m not ready to enter just yet. I can feel her absence wherever I go, whatever I do. It’s all these firsts without her. From birthdays, to weddings, to Ramadan. I don’t get her daily calls anymore. I can’t eat her food. I can’t go to Tesco and shop with her. Every little thing in my life has been impacted, even in ways I wouldn’t think until it comes to me. It’s just an empty space in my heart I deal with. And this empty void will continue to exist for the future, I fear, for nothing can really heal it.
I envisioned a life with my mum seeing me graduate, being there when I get my first proper job. Everything I hoped for has been taken from me without warning. The spiralling starts. I dwell on a future that is not available anymore. I dwell and dwell and dwell, thinking my mum can still have some space in my life somehow. But the reality comes crashing down when I’m reminded that she can’t come back. That the closest I can get to her is her grave. And that will be the norm for the rest of my life.
I then try to fill in that empty void by thinking about what should have happened. You tend to focus on the regrets, the bad things. You wish you spent more time with her, did this with her. You dwell so much on the past, on what you should have done. I should have taken her to the doctor, all this could have been prevented. Regret and guilt slowly creep up on you and take hold over you for such a long time, creating a cloud that forms over you. You’re a terrible person, a horrible daughter. Random thoughts like this come down from the cloud. It slowly starts to control you, and it seems like you’re unable to escape it, there’s no way out.
But sometimes, a random memory unlocks a way out of that toxic mindset. Her framing the paintings I did. The cardigans she would always gift me for my birthday. Memories of who she was as a person. Sometimes the bad moments will consume my conscious for a while, and impact the way I think about myself. But rather, thinking of my time with my mum as a whole lifts that cloud over my head. I’m reminded that I had an amazing relationship with my mum, one where she encouraged me and accepted me for who I was. And that’s what I want to remember when I think of my mum now.
The future will still have my mum, but in a different way. She will always be in the pictures, in the hobbies I do that she loved, in the little things that remind me of her. She will always be everywhere. While it’s not the future I expected, it’s the one that I now have. One where I will honour her and keep her memories alive. I’ve been wanting to get over this period of grief. But I don’t think I will. And that’s okay. Grief is just the love I had for my mum, unable to expressed anywhere else. And in that sense, I hope my grief will never go. Death doesn’t stop the love. Rather, it encourages you to keep the love going on, and to make it last.
Image: freestocks, via Unsplash