Month: September 2024

Grief

On By janewrites2020In UncategorizedLeave a comment

I know they say that grief is something you grow around and becomes a part of you. Ever since I was diagnosed with cancer, I have been feeling my grief towards the death of my mother very intensely. My mom had cancer in the same area I do, but it was a different type (think skin vs. bone), and I just wish I could talk to her and ask her how she made it through her own battle with cancer.

Shortly after my mother died, my husband tried to recommend some Switch games for me to play to distract me. I am a huge console gamer; I love playing on the PS5, Switch, and Steam Deck. The first game my husband recommended for me to play was called Cozy Grove, a game where you play as a Spirit Scout, and you meet the souls of those who have passed on, and you have to help them find peace. I bawled for the first 10 minutes when I played it.

Somehow, after Cozy Grove, I played a game called Spirit Farer. In it, you play as a former nurse tasked with finding souls stuck in purgatory, learning from them, and helping them pass on. The worst part for me was that some spirits involved people involved in the protagonist’s life, family members or close friends, and former patients. One of the spirits is a child who doesn’t understand how sick he is and wants to stay strong for his mom. I couldn’t even completely finish the game; once I met the child character, I cried so hard I hyperventilated.

One of the most beautiful games I played was Gris. The protagonist is a young girl trying to cope with her mother’s death. As the game progresses, you can see the world through the eyes of the young girl. The world starts in warm-toned colors, red and orange, and as she grows and processes her emotions, it becomes more colorful. The world also develops more; in the beginning, it is almost apocalyptic.

I struggle a lot with grief and the concept of death and the afterlife. It boggles my mind how people can be at peace and comfort with it, and it was something I was afraid of but had the luxury to ignore until I was diagnosed with cancer. I was then faced with my biggest fear, my own mortality. I had to sit and reconcile with the genuine possibility of my own life being cut short. I hate the thought of leaving my husband, dog, siblings, and dad behind. I hate that there is no concrete answer for what happens when we die; I hate that when those we love pass on, they don’t come back with signs or warnings to let us know what happens after the drip stops.

It makes me so sad to think of leaving my loved ones behind, to leave them with all the grief, and I won’t be there to shoulder such grief, and it twists my heart to think I would be the cause of the suffering. If the grief they feel is even a fraction of what I felt when my mom died, then I would be severely concerned, I truly thought within the first months after my mom’s death, I was going to die of a broken heart.

I find it cruel that the universe allows us to meet and fall in love with such wonderful,and then takes them away from us, leaving us to carry their memories powerful souls with us.

I haven’t brought myself to delete my mom’s contact from my phone, though my oldest brother now uses it. I nearly screamed when he called me, and I saw my mom’s photo come up. I wanted to sink into the floor when a coworker asked me how my mom was a year and a half after she died.

My mom died the day my wedding bouquet was delivered; it was waiting on my doorstep when I got home at 3am. It was a punch in the gut when the custom wedding favors came in, and her name was etched in on them. There was a massive, massive absence of her at my wedding, there was an empty chair at the dinner for it, it was served a meal and a slice of cake, both went untouched until my father boxed it up and took it home, along with her favor.

I will never forget standing 6 feet behind my father leaving the church after my mom’s service. The sun was shining, and his silhouette was dark, and he stood in the entryway, and he watched as 6 pallbearers took the love of his life away.

It hurt so fucking bad the day my mom died as we surrounded her hospital bed and asked her what she wanted to do next, and my dad said to her, “The buck stops here, baby. There’s nothing else to do.”

I cried and cried for days, I reached for my phone every day for months to call her, only to remember she wasn’t going to answer. I’ve never deleted our text conversations, and I hold every photo I have of her close to my heart.

I loved her so intensely that the loss of her hurts just as much.

-Jane

Is It Growth?

On By janewrites2020In UncategorizedLeave a comment

So, when I started this blog, like 12 years ago, I was speaking to a man I met on the internet and had been for like 2 years, and yes, I know. I was about 13 when I first started speaking to him, and he was 18. Do you see where I am going with this? So I was a young, impressionable girl looking for attention, and this man seemed a little too eager to give it to me. I know that none of this was an intelligent series of decisions.

So this man fed me all kinds of things: sweet nothings, compliments, and unbridled attention. I gave him my cellphone number because I figured, “Hey, he was a few states away; he won’t ever come here.” As far as I know, he never did, but I stupidly gave him my general address; he knew which town I lived in.

Now, as a 13-year-old, I was awkward, self-conscious, insecure, and typical teenage things. At one point, he wanted to be my boyfriend, and I felt pressured to say yes. I didn’t think I could decline again I was 13. Once I accepted to be his girlfriend, shit changed quick. He would text me at all hours, day and night. I would get up at 5am to finish homework before school, and he would be texting. Sometimes I fell back asleep, I would wake up at like 6am, and he would be calling me all sorts of names, a cunt, a bitch, all these horrific things because I wouldn’t reply. Thankfully, this was before smartphones, I had an LG ENV 3, and I realized at some point that because I slept with my phone on my nightstand, if it vibrated with a text while I was asleep, I would, in my sleep, open the text and roll back over. So, because I opened these texts, the notification is gone. I wasn’t addicted to my phone then; I wouldn’t search for messages, see no alert, and just move on with my day.

It got to the point where I was scared to have my phone on me because he was just sending text after text. I recall that even one of my teachers pulled me aside after class to tell me he could see a noticeable shift in my personality and that something wasn’t right. Now, at this time, I was able to keep my phone on my person as my dad was having some health issues, and shortly after I had to leave school for a week or two because my dad needed open heart surgery in Ohio, so my sister and I traveled with him to be there.

This was a tumultuous time in my life. There were so many life-altering events happening around me, and I didn’t know how to navigate them. Despite my fear, I would lean on this man because I felt I didn’t have anyone else. I recall crying down the phone to him because my dad was having a rough recovery from his open heart surgery.

At some point, he got in touch with someone I considered my best friend at the time, who admittedly was close to his age and “left me.” I was hurt and destroyed, not because I loved him, but because how could my best friend do something so hurtful to me like that?

I think because of this situation, it shaped my view of relationships for a long time. I want to emphasize that this entire situation made me so deeply uncomfortable when I was living it, but I was so lost as to what to do. I couldn’t stand the idea of him “being in love” with me; it made my skin crawl. I hated listening to him talk about what kind of future he “wanted for us.” He wanted me at some point, barefoot and pregnant, in the kitchen, taking care of him after he came home from work. There was never a discussion about what I wanted for my life, a possible career, or higher education. It was all about him “being the man of the house.”

Even just recounting this makes my stomach churn; as an adult, I can see how I endangered my younger self. I think subconsciously, I purposely grew up to rebel against everything this man wanted me to be. I got two bachelor’s degrees, I had a tubal ligation, and I am married to a wonderful man, but he doesn’t expect me to fulfill any of these “wifely” duties that this man wanted me to do.

I have grown and learned, and when I worked briefly as a teacher, I warned my students against speaking to people on the internet. I know it could have been worse, and I am very grateful it didn’t escalate to something I couldn’t handle.

I hope someone can learn from this, teach the younger ones around them to be cautious, even if you are as honest as it comes, you can’t expect everyone you meet to be honest too.

-Jane

Holding A Grudge?

On By janewrites2020In UncategorizedLeave a comment

A grudge, defined by Oxford Language, is a noun: a persistent feeling of ill will or resentment resulting from a past insult or injury.

I think that a grudge and a feeling of regret often go hand-in-hand, and it could be hard to distinguish from one another. I know a lot of the things I think I have a grudge about are actually just feelings of regret. I just don’t know that I have it in me to hold on to anger for long enough to just ruminate on it. When I was younger, I always thought that moving on from anything that has caused me great distress or turmoil, which many things have, would make me a pushover, that it made me spineless, like I didn’t advocate for myself.

As I have grown older and possibly wiser, I realize that letting go or making peace with things that have hurt me dramatically protects my sanity, peace, and inner voice. I find that sitting with such incidents and learning from them allows me to grow as a person. Eventually, I can reflect on those moments in my life, take the lessons I have learned from them, and apply them to situations in the future.

Human emotions are complex, exhausting, and normal. I think they are an ever-evolving entity and recognizing events that make us feel so intensely are so important as they teach us how to navigate ourselves.

Don’t get me wrong. I can be petty towards people who I feel have slighted me, but for a very short period, I am not willing to focus all my energy, harmful or not, on something so minute in comparison to the grand scheme of things.

If you can let it go, give it a try.

-Jane

Daily writing prompt
Are you holding a grudge? About?
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That Time of Day

On By janewrites2020In UncategorizedLeave a comment

One of the writing prompts I saw asked, “What is your favorite time of day?” I think my favorite time of the day has to be when the sun is just barely starting to peak over the mountains when the birds are still barely chirping, their beaks closed with lingering sleep. When it’s still cold outside, and the dew sits upon the grass before being called away by the incessant sun. When fog lingers, thick and low, offering protection from the elements, offering some mystery and cover.

I like this time of day when it’s still dark in my kitchen, and my husband is either asleep or at work, and our dog has yet to be roused. I like listening to the water in the kettle boil, and I pour it into my mug for my tea to steep. I can look out my kitchen window and see the newly birthed light of day cast rays into the dew, which turns the whole yard into a sparkling sea of lush greenery topped with a little bit of magic.

I feel that the night comes so abruptly that darkness comes down quickly and heavily, and all the critters are out or scurrying home. The crickets all sign to announce their presence as they hide under the darkness of the night.

I like how quietly the dawn sneaks in, how the sunlight slowly inches its way over trees, slipping into windows, warming everything underneath it so gradually. There is something so beautiful about how effortless the morning sweeps in, so unhurried.

-Jane