How Does It Sound Like?
I was stunned. I have never had anyone said something like this to me before. I was so stunned I sat down on my bed and cried. I haven’t cried a lot for my loss these past couple of months I didn’t even know the depth of my despair until I read those lines.
“Agnes, I lost someone who meant the world to me… and I’ll be blunt — you don’t sound like someone who has experienced that kind of pain. Please do me a favor — if this is not what really happened to you, please remove your story from my publication and stop publishing this. It’s hurtful and offensive to those who have truly loved and lost people we loved beyond words.”
I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to think, I don’t know how to react or respond. I just froze and the tears just flowed before I realized it was flowing.
What can I say? I’m really sorry. I wrote a post about my father’s tears. I was trying to tell people that it’s okay to cry. That men can cry and be vulnerable too. That crying is not a sign of weakness. I must have written something wrong and I am really sorry. I deleted the post after I received the message. The thought that my writing upset even just one person is really upsetting. I didn’t mean any harm and I am truly sorry if it offended anyone.
But it really happened. My mother — the person I’m closest too in this world— really passed away and my father really cried. I wish it didn’t happen, but it did. I wish I didn’t break but I did.
My mother went into coma — in Indonesia — when I was thousand miles away in Qatar. She never woke up. I took the earliest flight I could find but I never got the chance to talk to her for the very last time. She nearly passed before I reached Indonesia, my brother put the phone near her ears and I was crying into the phone, begging her to wait for me.
So yes, it really happened to me even though I wish it didn’t.
I am in hell. But even in hell, one still need to live.
If you’re going through hell, keep going.
This quote has been my crutches and kept me going for the last 2 months.
Sadness has no face. Different people deal with sorrow and pain differently. Just because I don’t wail or I don’t cry when I talk about my mother doesn’t mean I don’t feel the pain of the loss.
My mother used to tell me that I’m her sunshine and she loves me for it. I’ve been her sunshine for so long I no longer know how to be thunderclouds. I am dealing with my feelings, in my own time, in my own space, in my own way.
Just because someone is not sad the way you picture sadness, doesn’t mean that person is not sad. As a good friend of mine told me, “Who sets the benchmark? Maybe you’re just stronger than everyone else.”
This is why it’s important to be nice to everyone, to go the extra mile to be kind to everyone you cross path with — people who look happy or sad, rich or poor — because you’ll never know what’s happening inside a person.
Someone might be having a terrible day but not showing it on the outside. It’s easy to smile, to laugh, to say “I’m okay” even when you’re not. If you do it long enough, you’ll believe it and it becomes your truth. But a little bit of kindness goes a long way. I’m mending and it really helps to hear kind words and words of encouragement.
I sincerely apologize if any of my previous posts upset or offended someone. Maybe it sounded like I’m not experiencing painful loss but I am. This is me. This is how I deal with my pain.
How does a person who has experienced painful loss of a loved one sound like?