It’s been eight days since Mama di-ied, Hallelujah.
It’s been saddening eight da-ays, Hallelujah.
It’s been up and down, long and hard days since Mama di-ied, Hallelujah.
My hea-art weeps insi-ide knowing Mama’s died.
We’ll miss her Lord, yes Sir. (eight days)
We’ll see her again, Lord, yes Sir. (Hallelujah)
I have no idea where that came from but it came and got written. My Mom absolutely loved Gospel music especially from a Black church. She always cried and I mean always. It moved the Holy Spirit in her like I’ve never seen and probably still does in Heaven.
The word seems foreign now, Heaven. As a Baha’i we call it the Abha Kingdom. What’s sad is I don’t remember what Abha means except it’s a description or a word for God. I’ll need to write that down and find out the meaning. I also want to find out, after watching Pitch Black, if Allah Akbar means God is great or some translation like that.
By the way, that little diddy is wrong. It’s actually been 9 days since my Mother passed. I feel sad today. I felt good waking up and doing my usual dental routine. (Yes, it’s a routine, not just brushing my teeth unlike my husband who has the immune system that only God could have bestowed on him and the radiant light when he talks about his relationship with God too- amazing).
When I think of her saying Goodbye, I think it’d be something like…
“I won’t be gone too long. You’ll join me soon enough, Sweets. So how about this: I won’t say ‘Goodbye.’ I’ll say ‘See you soon.’ I’ll always be watching you and help you any way I can, you know that.”
I’d nod and smile. We’d hug one last big, strong, squeezing hug then step away from me and she’d just fade away, slowly and wave, “See you soon, Sweet pea. Remember you may not see me but I’m still here.” Then at the last minute she’d yell, “Give Cutie pie a big hug from me!” She loves dramatics that way. Cutie Pie is my son (her grandson), by the way.
I wish I had thought of that at the funeral service and said it. I think it would have helped some there. My Mother could write or talk her way into or out of anything, if you ask me. I hope I can do half of what she can do.
I hate this feeling. I guess I’m being melancholy. I’m really not sure what the word means except something to do with sadness. I’m hearing all my favorite Christmas/Holiday songs and all I wanna do it go pick up that stereo then throw it out the freaking window in hopes it breaks across the asphalt…or is it cement that’s out in my work parking lot. sighs I wish I knew what triggered this so I can make
sure to avoid it tomorrow morning. It doesn’t help that most of the morning my digestive tract has been feeling terrible with much nausea. Bleh.
Oh, thank you God for stopping that music.
I just feel so numb and apathetic. I miss being a happy, hopeless romantic or uber optimist depending who you ask. Apparently, I sound so down that after talking to my Brother he told our Sister.