Death is so sudden. We never know when it’s going to visit us. Whether directly or indirectly. I was watching a video of someone who had just lost a loved one and he said that it was so sudden, no one expected this person to die. He had spoken to this person just the day before and there was no indication of sickness whatsoever and now she was gone.
Even when we know someone is at the end of their life, whether by old age or illness, we can’t always accept that they are about to leave us. And once they do, that void left behind is so palpable, so tangible.
So many people are experiencing loss lately. I see it everywhere.
I work in news and I see death on a daily basis. At times, I feel a bit disensititized and then I have to remind myself, that someone has lost a loved one and that it could have easily been me in that situation.
It’s strange though, before I lost my motherin 2020, I didn’t understand death or its impact but now, it’s as if I can feel everyone’s pain, everyone’s grief because it reminds me of my own.
Isn’t funny though, how something like death can be the thread that connects us?
Life is short and death is sudden. I don’t think we realize that any day can be our last. We are busy making plans for tomorrow but don’t know if tomorrow is on our calendar.
We haven’t accepted it. Our human minds can’t comprehend it.
I was watching a show and one of the characters delivered the following line:
We’ve all heard the saying, ‘Live each day as if it’s your last’ but what if we lived each day as if it were our first? Full of wonder and curiosity and joy, love and gratitude. Untainted by heartache, pain, loss, grief, anger, hate or unforgiveness. But rather as if we’re experiencing the world for the very first time. With a gentle approach, an open mind, and a receivingheart.
We don’t know when our last day on earth will be. All we have is today. You can choose how you spend it.
There are many things I wish I could have said to my mother before she died and sadly, we only realize these things afterwards but we still have many other loved ones we can cherish and appreciate.
Don’t waste it. Be kind, loving gentle, and compassionate. Be good.
Our behavior and actions are all we can control.
Death is out of our hands. How we live our life that has been gifted to us is all we have.
Have you ever had someone look at you Like you were the sun? Beautiful and fiery. Passionate and addictive. Our love was fast and hard. Explosive and tender. It erased who we thought we were and made us new. It made us one. It connected us, vessel to vessel. I am reaching out, and I fit perfectly. I think of him, and I no longer feel alone. We are one. I am a part of him, and he is a part of me. Not only through physical intimacy, but our souls, our minds and our hearts embedded onto the blueprint of the other. Although a comfortable pace and routine remain now, the fire still burns. I feel it. I know he does, too. I don’t need him to live and breathe. He breathes life into my spirit. He does not define me. My heart’s love for him is defined by who he is. Knowing he is living and breathing on this planet, even apart, makes me feel safe. It makes me feel that all is right in this world. He is the moon to my stars. The sky to my sun. Magnificent apart But Exceptionally wonderful together.
I still love sad poetry. I love to know that hearts are still able to heal after suffering. It brings me comfort to know that loneliness doesn’t last. I smile when I think Spring comes after Winter, and the sun still rises in the morning. I still love sad poetry. It brings me hope when days are long and nights are cold. I still believe in new beginnings when I read stanzas of tears on a page, and I see broken hearts in the smiles of strangers. I still love sad poetry. I still write sad poetry. It makes me feel, and it makes me think, and it helps me remember the days when I wasn’t sad.
This woman was me in many ways, except for the reasons she wasn’t.
She was a woman who had to survive many painful obstacles; prostitution, abandonment, unemployment, living on the streets, and many other social ills.
Our struggles differ, but our desire to overcome them is the same.
I saw something in her: a stranger I have never met before and will probably never meet again.
I saw a fighting spirit.
Things I thought I had lost in myself, but her yellow-stained eyes reflected it when I looked at her.
This woman stood before me with joy, a smile, and hope in her heart.
Like many others, she had to sacrifice a part of herself to get through life and reach this point, where she stood in front of me with a smile so broad I couldn’t help but smile too.
She speaks about the life she used to live without shame and her life now with pride. She embraces every challenge she has endured to get to where she is today.
We don’t share the same skin colour or the same mother tongue.
We don’t have the same economic standing or have the same employment status.
We don’t enjoy the same opportunities or possibilities nor are we the same age or grew up the same way.
But it is precisely those differences that make us the same.
The spirit of a warrior woman, one who doesn’t give up.
One who doesn’t have much but still gives.
Someone who doesn’t know it all but continues to learn.
It’s going to hurt until it no longer does. It’s going to tear at you and pull you apart Until you learn to put yourself together again. Eventually all this will just become a distant memory. Eventually the pain will disappear. Your hands will stop shaking. You will breathe again. Eventually You’ll stop searching and start appreciating. You’ll stop waiting and wishing. You’ll stop regretting and start living. Eventually you’ll stop blaming yourself and start forgiving yourself, Eventually. It might not happen today. But it’ll happen, Eventually.
To the woman sitting alone in her empty house Full of memories and mementos, wondering where it all went wrong, I was you. To the young girl crying her eyes out in the office bathroom, staring at herself In the mirror, not recognizing the person staring back at her With bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks, I understand. To the tired mother, using her last strength to dress and feed and play with her kids When she hasn’t eaten or had a decent shower in days, I have been there. To the friend that needs comforting and can’t control the tears from flowing, Feeling as if everything is falling apart, You will be okay. It doesn’t matter how strong you feel you need to be or how tired you are and How many times you need to start over, I want you to know that This too shall pass.
Okay, this book was difficult to read. As a mother and as a woman, I found myself gasping, cringing, feeling sad and heartbroken, feeling angry and frustrated. I experienced disbelief and a whole lot of other emotions that caught me by surprise. I’m not sure what I expected when I picked up this book but what I found was definitely not it.
Without giving too much away, I’ll provide a short summary.
Frida Liu is a young mother accused of neglecting and abandoning her young child. She is then sent to a school which is meant to retrain ‘bad mothers’ into becoming the best and most attentive mothers in human existence. (I’m being a bit sarcastic here and once you read the book, especially if you are a mother, I’m sure you will understand why.)
The training and exercises these mothers at the school go through are something else; I found myself frowning and saying “huh?” on many occasions while reading.
‘I am a bad mother but I am learning to be good’
An excerpt from the book.
There is so much I can say and want to say about how this book made me feel; when I got to the last chapter, I was in tears.
In a way this book highlights the unrealistic expectations society has when it comes to mothers. Don’t get me wrong, motherhood and children are a gift for women who want it, but it’s a very difficult journey to be on.
In the book, mothers are expected to always be aware of everything around them, never turn their eyes away from their children for a second, be able to soothe their babies by using the correct language and words and physical affection, be able to effectively comfort their children and provide quick, healthy meals and stimulate their minds all the while not losing their own heads.
In a nutshell; it’s a lot.
The thing is, mothers can do all the above but unlike the children in the book, we are not robots. We need a break and we are not always emotionally available for our children or spouses or partners. We won’t always cook healthy dinners and sometimes we want to shut down and be left alone and that is perfectly normal and should be acceptable.
Our own kids are 6 and 8 years old now; they have an abundance of energy which I don’t. There is always something that needs to be done. Laundry needs to be washed and folded and packed away, school lunches need to be made, shopping needs to be done, toys have to be picked up and put away, children need to be disciplined. All the while you are trying to think of the 20 things you need to remember, you are thinking about work, you are checking the time, you are trying to engage in conversations, you are trying to be a good wife and then you need to remember to take care of yourself; have a bath, drink your coffee, fall asleep.
You will fall short somewhere.
We were never made to be perfect.
The guilt and pressure mothers are put under is also a prominent theme in this book; not only by society but by family and surprisingly other mothers too. The pressure can become so crippling, that it becomes life-threatening.
As a mom myself, I’ve been judged, criticized, told what I’m doing wrong, what I should be doing and how I should be doing it. I’ve also compared myself to other moms and it made me feel like the worst person in the world. I’ve been told to plan ahead, prepare dinners, clothing, activities, grocery lists, an endless number of things that I am meant to remember and take care off. Being a parent is difficult but there’s a different kind of hardship that comes with motherhood. Sometimes it’s unrealistic and you have homes where there are two parents and both contribute equally but I think as women, we tend to put ourselves under pressure and that pressure is amplified when you become a mom. Especially when you have a full-time job, a side hustle, a marriage, children. When you do catch your breath long enough to tick something off your to-do list, it feels like a miracle, that’s if you remembered to write your to-do list!
Yes, I know. It sounds like I am venting and maybe I am a little. Reading this book might unlock feelings on the inside of you, that you never even thought you had. Some of those feelings you might not be ready to face.
Something else which stands out for me in this novel is how different the ‘bad fathers’ are treated at the school, which I will call, ‘parenting rehab facility’
The differences are like night and day, which again angered me a little because moms are not always extended the grace which they deserve.
I think the overwhelming message in this book is how one small mistake can change your entire life. The book is about a mother who needs to make decisions which are painful and difficult but she makes them and she doesn’t always make the right ones.
It’s also about regret and how it can hold you back but its also about forgiveness; forgiving others but also forgiving yourself for mistakes you made when you didn’t know better.
All in all, it was an amazing read. I could probably write pages and pages of analysis but I want you to experience this book and make sense of it on your own.
