Tag Archives: Therapy after loss

Do They Know?

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I wonder if when a person leaves this realm do they truly know that you loved them because you didn’t say the words despite your actions or if your actions seem awkward and your words meant truth? Do they know the truth when you have intentionally ignored them , birthdays and holidays -never a word. Do they know or do they learn the truth in the possible afterlife many of us have been taught to believe in . I think about my encounters with those close to me passing . I have mainly arrived after the fact. I have never seen a person slip out of this realm in a wake sense. I have seen those in a coma state , resting and waiting . I think of this at times because I don’t want the idea of dying to be scary to me. It cannot be because so many people that I truly love are there. If they are there, why should I be afraid to see them again, if there is an again.

Do they know in that final moment or is really just shock and then nothing? We are mortal and are adamant of representing immortality. There are those of us who really have no idea of when the last breathe will happen , then there are us who are in areas that make this thought center stage. The knowing that resting is not possible. The sound of explosions, the entering of buildings that are on fire, the profession of cleaning a window on the 250th floor, the idea of just crossing a street or the fact your skin could guarantee no tomorrows if you ask for help in an area that is prejudice against you. Will they know that they were loved? Will they think of you? Is there an inner journey that seems like the quantum realm to the living be at a crawling pace for the departing?

The idea of spirits coming back for unfinished business is nice to me, yet I think is not real. I like the idea of my ancestors journeying with me , after all I am their wildest dream. Spirits , if real , are seen as bystanders when good and active tyrants when evil. Why are good spirits always so helpless in movies and evil is without bounds? This is a poor mindset that the media has given us. One thing I have noticed with the idea of spirits is that they were evil because of abuse thus they form a pact with higher evil resulting in multitude of films repeating the story in various forms. I want spirits to be real because I want to make sure my loves know I loved them even though they did know; I want to say it to them to ease my soul. It’s selfish, I am human.

I doubt that the spirit world is real because following the ideas we created about angry spirits , there would be no Europeans walking this realm. So many ethnicities have been wiped out by this group of people thus they wouldn’t be. I cannot comprehend the idea that they would allow the oppressors linage to continue. So , my ancestors are possible not spirits. However, it is through the storytelling of spirits one’s ancestors are kept close, dying can have some balm, and abstract thought can thrive. The thoughts felt and dreamed may be DNA; the passing of organic material infused with new material in a new era. It possible could be explained by science. Is it their anger, fear, joy and countless emotions I feel or am I delusional? Either case I know never respond direct if a voice call my name that I cannot see, be mindful when beating the drum for I could be calling the dead and keep a white candle on standby.

So, do they know that you loved them? Maybe

Will I ever get my answer to this ? Yes

Will I be able to share it ? No

Because some things of this life are meant to always be pondered.

Happy Hallows Eve.

Have I failed you or you me?

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It’s 1.49 am and I cannot sleep. I hear him drawn in air deeply while my mind is racing with images of people in ICU, hooked up to machines. I begin to have flashbacks to my time at Grady the experience had left a great impression on me. Healthcare is key.

I think of my mommy unable to speak or even acknowledge me, hooked up to many machines and being told it is time. Do I want it to be time? She hasn’t told me her final words yet. She didn’t get to make eye contact with me once more or say ” Mommy loves You .

I miss my mommy. She is/was all that I had and have in this life. I lost my home in 2018 August. She cannot come back only in a memory treasure chest. I can hear her ever so slightly. What if I forget her? Is she looking at me now ? God I hope yes and no. I feel as if I missed my potential in the last few years. I stop writing because I was getting lovin’. I thought I was achieving a particular aspect of my life that didn’t require sad writing which has been my best writing.

I have never learned to harness the power of feeling into creating only in sorrow. I began to wonder is artistry is only truly beautiful when in pain.

It can be done without. I have refused to know probably out of fear of not having my anxiety of anxiety with me . It is my oldest comrade. I have to end our relationship. I know how just not sure of the why. I must give my anxiety closure so it cannot return. So it doesn’t follow my social media under an allies , stalk my daily routine or sabotage me to get revenge.

Dear Anxiety,

You have been a close relation of mine since I was a child. I remember you being there when I wanted a father. When I felt invisible to my mom because my younger sister required more attention. When we moved every few years, never having roots outside of Jamaica. When I had my first infatuation and planned our life together, as well as my 2nd, 3rd all the way to the one laying near me now. He is blissfully sleeping . He is blissfully not our last. Better I say he is our last . I am leaving you with him or you can be free.

I cannot take you with me anymore ; you stunt my judgement. You scare me from risk and push me into solitude of another kind. I need space to know me without you. The virus is making me think of what needs to be corrected in me. Who I need and who I cannot be with anymore…. I am breaking up with you. For my sake of growth. For the possibility my mother is watching me . I believe she is watching me. She is always saying my smart girl always doing crazy things. She laughs showing her big pearly whites. She had the best laugh. I can see her now doing it. – I miss her.

So I got to let you go.

You have taught me much. You have pushed me against my natural instincts. You have shown me what damage you can do to a body and a soul- you are strong .

Good bye.

Anxiety is love’s greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic.

Anaïs Nin