From The Vault – A Game | scrEaMing mANgo

From The Vault – A Game | scrEaMing mANgo.

The Mourning After

I broke down a while ago.

It came like a runaway truck , with a full load of bricks, going downhill, and I was just crossing the street, oblivious, uncaring, and hit me. I cried like a five-year-old kid who just lost his mom.

It’s sudden. It was inevitable. It was so many things at once. It was everything and nothing and it grabbed me by the throat and squeezed the breath out of my shaking body, while I writhed in pain that nobody could have felt the way I did. I was so deep in it for a while, the tears on my cheeks felt like boiling water,  and I sat here in my room, bawling like a child.

Which is what I am now, a 43-year-old boy whose mother passed away, several months past.

The memory of receiving the news was murky and ghostly, I may have pushed the knowing far back in my mind. So far back it took a small area there with  the regrets, and all the things I wish I have never done, but are neatly folded and kept in a bag. gathering dust and moss, being eaten away by bugs and rats of my consciousness.

I was in denial. I was angry. I was infuriated because of the fact that no one in my family took the time to tell me. I found out my Ina passed away  last February 23. She died on the 20th. I was saddened but I didn’t cry then, and I thought I will not cry.

Until now.

I mourn her passing. I grieve for the loss. I miss my Ina, my mother.

All the thank yous, the petty blames, the apologies now have no place to go. She is gone, and there’s no one to hear me say ” I love you, Ina.”  My heart sank. Still sinking. Still bleeding from the loss. I guess I never really mourned her.

I mourn her now.

I always told friends to treat their loss as a celebration of their passing, to remember the life and not the death. I’m choking on my burned hypocrisy now, swallowing hard and chasing it down with bitter ink.

Rizalinda Robale Paelmo

Goodbye, Ina.

And this is what triggered the sobbing and weeping. A song I have always liked, but never really felt the impact until a while ago. felt like it was written just for me, for this moment of realization.

“I found the tears since you’ve been gone
And I stand in fear, can I make it on my own
Without your love to guide me thru my life
It’s so cold at night without you here
And those gentle arms that held me close and dear
Oh we’re all the same, we all live and die
You’ll always be in my heart, oh Mama don’t you cry
You’ll always live in my dreams, oh Mama don’t you cry
Every night when I close my eyes
I see a light and shadows of your face
It’s always there like an angel over me
So many frozen years hangin’ on my wall
A thousand words, I can hear them call
Oh I tried so hard but I could never say goodbye
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/LHNi
You’ll always be in my heart, oh Mama don’t you cry
You’ll always live in my dreams, oh Mama don’t you cry
No one can kiss away the pain like you
No one like Mama, no one like you”

“You’ll always be in my heart, oh Mama don’t you cry
You’ll always live in my dreams, oh Mama don’t you cry
(You’ll always be in my heart, oh Mama
don’t you cry – don’t you cry)
(You’ll always live in my dreams) in my
dreams (Oh Mama don’t you cry)
Oh Mama don’t you cry”

[ Mama, Don’t You Cry – Steelheart ]

Hey, You . . . . . !?

Yes.

You.

You, with those sulking shoulders and drooping mouth. How long will you whine and complain about how life is treating you like a rag? You sit right there with your idle hands and your defiant stare, while everything is moving around you with the tenacity of a whirlpool, you just sit and ponder how unfortunate you are to be born in poverty, yet that Psp you play with is a couple of grand way beyond your family’s income.

You.

There.