grief
grief
regret grief and remembrance
how much mama remembers
how much i’ve forgotten
how much rushes back when i pick up mama’s old notebooks
her old handwritten notes on thyroid cancer, diabetes management
her old cookbook, a textbook long i wonder if she ever anticipated them to become family heirlooms and most of those pages are now lost
scattered by a mind scattered by gas
how much i recall at night lying in bed
this must have been how he felt
lying alone in bed departing to it after he saw me glued to my own secondary to a deep depression
secondary to anoxic poisoning secondary to our hemoglobin won’t bind that oxygen secondary to increased intracranial pressure secondary to grief secondary to i don’t recognize you anymore secondary to where is my mom
my mom is right here
she’s always been here
but i remember my mom
where did she go?
grief – the kind that pushed, tormented, me to think beyond myself by accepting that this reality was wholly separated from what i knew before
the sooner i realized we were different people now, the smoother my transition to a new peace would be
and how thankful i am that that peace has arrived
how thankful i am to know that grief seeds within us not only as we move from this life to the next but will present and seed itself through moments in this life as well; through any loss of an old self
grief for old ambitions, the kind my mom knew intimately, the kind my mom nurtured in me
who am i if not a nurtured human?
she is here still
hina's notebook 