Creative Writing - A Diary Entry

As compared to the past 150 days of my life, today, I didn’t wake up screaming from nightmares. The sunshine caressed my face, its warmth settling in, and I slowly opened my eyes. As I rose, I realized the ache in my chest, had dulled down. Not completely gone yet but still so much better than before. I didn’t know if it was going away, or instead I was just beginning to learn to live with it.

Dressing up didn’t feel like a chore anymore. Neither did climbing down the stairs and grabbing some breakfast. Like every other day, I sat on the kitchen stool and ate my cereal as I watched my dad move around. We sat at the table and ate in silence. I asked him how he was doing, he said he was doing ok. He asked me how I was doing and I told him I was coping.

It’s been approximately 5 months, 150 days and 3600 hours since mum left us. But why does it feel like it happened only yesterday? I feel like time never felt the same way again after she left. All these days that I’ve been trying to move on, it only feels like I’m moving more steps back. As soon as I close my eyes those blindingly white hospital lights, hit me right in the face. The stench of antiseptic fills my lungs. I feel like I am in an unescapable dream… or worse, a nightmare.

It’s a rather strange feeling, knowing that your mother isn’t going to be around. That she won’t be there, waiting for you, a plate of cookies in her hand as you return back home from school, after an almost disastrous day.

Why is it, that we only understand the value of something once it’s gone? Why don’t we appreciate what we have earlier and only once we lose it we realize that it was all we had. I think the worse feeling though, is the heart wrenching pain you feel when you actually do lose somebody. Like someone ripped a hole right through your chest.

I can still remember the exact moment mom left us all. It was like someone drove over me with a bulldozer. I was broken and dysfunctional. I could neither think nor respond. I spiraled away into a sea of despair that I don’t know how I survived through. I still remember her pained smile and the way she smelled like autumn leaves and antiseptic.

How do you let go? How do you just let a massive part of your life drift away while you try to live like nothing happened?

Today felt just like any other day. Since mum’s absence in our lives, I had taken up the very strange, and demanding role of my mother. It is true, when people say, that you don’t really know what you have until it’s gone. And in my case I guess I never really realized how essential mum was to my dad, my brother and me. Maybe it was because I never really thought, in even my wildest dreams that I would lose her.

Over these few months, I had adapted to many different roles. Of a daughter, a sibling, a mother, and maybe even somewhat of a wife. I had taken over my mum’s role as the anchor of the house. My brother, who studied abroad, would come visit at times and although that helped, seeing my brother around, feeling as though maybe my life wasn’t completely empty, the need for my mother increased.

My brother called today after school, we talked for a few minutes, and narrated stories that had occurred through the week. It was mostly him talking while I heard him out. I laughed at all the right places and made the right amount of witty comments in the others. Yet he still knew that I wasn't completely in the conversation, like I used to be a year ago. We shed a few tears talking about mum, and then bid our goodbyes.

The rest of the day proceeded in meaningless phone calls, and pointless homework. I prepared a small meal for my father and me, and then tried to clean the house. But how dirty can a house, occupied by two people get? Before I knew it the night fell around the house like thick black curtains. Nightfall came faster than I would have liked and it condemned me to face what I tried to avoid all day.

I drowned once again in my thoughts and visions of what had passed. At times the visions weren't so mortifying, I would hear mums melodic voice and feel the soft caress of her hands. And most times it would just be her face, the post sickness face. And it would haunt me.

Dad came home early today, and we ate in silence. He complimented me on the food and I thanked him. He surprised me with a new book, my only escape from the world I live in. I cleaned up after we were done and then stumbled up the stairs to my room.

I collapsed onto the bed and here I sit, writing down the thoughts of my day. And before sleep pulls me in and my eyes start to close, the last thought of my day, I miss mum.