Silver and Gardenias

A significant event in my life took place today, and I wasn't there. I had thought about whether or not I should reveal what's been going on with me lately. Truth be told, I was unsure about what I should tell and what I should keep to myself. But I had an enlightening conversation with one of my best friends. It made me realize that if I couldn't be honest with my friends about what was happening in my life, then I wasn't really a good friend.

I've always taken the time and made the effort to do as much as I can to help out a friend. I know what it's like to need help, to feel despair and anxiety, and then feel a great sense of relief and peace when someone finally comes to your aid. But as much as I try to be there for a friend in need, I have a very hard time asking for help. I tend to keep things to myself. I try to work through my own hardships by myself. I think it stems from the fact that I've gotten so used to doing things on my own. In the past, the people I've trusted and depended on turned out to be the ones who let me down and hurt me the most. It's a painful experience, one that I care not to repeat. So it's hard for me to ask anyone for anything. I've learned that you don't risk getting hurt by other people when you don't depend on them to do important things for you. Sometimes, it just seems easier to do things on your own. But recently, I've been reminded that sometimes, it's better to be true to your friends and let them help you when find yourself in difficult times.

And these are challenging times for me. Today, my mother was buried. And I wasn't there. It was my choice. It may seem strange for a son not to be present at his mother's funeral. But I have my reasons. It's not that I don't care; in fact, I care too much. I loved my mother very much, and I will miss her dearly. I'm very sad, but I've yet to cry. I've come close, but as soon as my eyes start to water, I stop myself and get my emotions under control. Though, I'm pretty sure it's only a matter of time before I have a complete breakdown. I only hope it'll be in the privacy of my own home, away from prying eyes and I'm by myself.

When my father died, I was a very angry and lost soul. I hated the world and I was thought God had abandoned me. It would be many years before I accepted his death, though I could never get over the loss. My mother's passing is different. I knew that it was only a matter of time, and though there is a profound sense of loss and sorrow, I am also experiencing a deep sense of relief. She no longer suffers and I can only hope she finds peace.

To understand my situation, I have to talk about events that took place over two weeks ago. In the process of telling my tale, I risk revealing a little of the personal history that I guard so well. I am officially an orphan. I have no parents. It's such a hard thing to wrap around my mind; but it's true. I am no longer anyone's son. My mother is gone. And I am left to wander the world on my own.