Weekly Writing Challenge: I Remember
by Han
Your statuesque figure had dilapidated — you crumbled.
You were so strong during our presence but fell apart after his absence.
I remember…
His purple lips stood in vivid contrast to his cadaverous features. His hair, thin and ashen. An original raven black metamorphosed into pallid grey. His delicate eyelids concealed his cerulean eyes and were never again seen. The outlines of his wrinkles were like spider webs, stretching further away from his canthus. He laid in a foreign gurney, with a blanket pulled all the way up just below his half-shaved chin.
Your hands hugged him in a manner that evoked genuine empathy. Your hands acted like wings of a mother swan, surrounding his cold torso, with copious tears flowing from your puffed eyes. You crouched over with your thin lips in contingence with his bare, wizened forehead — a hushed kiss that bade him farewell and expressed gratitude.
Your heart shattered silently — pain that you could fathom but hoped otherwise. We stood by your side, comforting you. But at that point in time, that wasn’t what you needed. You needed personal space; a timeout; a time to recollect and reflect.
That last call that you made with a fraction of reluctance turned out to be the most fortunate phone call you had ever made. Both of you conversed and solved misunderstandings. Both of you were happy.
Little did we expect such a dolorous news four days later. After the 24th of March 2013, you let it all out whenever you had the chance to. I could hear your sobs in the bathroom and your muffled weeps as you wrote poetry which pertained to him. Every night, your pillow will be soaked with tears.
You had changed. It were as though your soul had dissipated to someplace, locked and never returning. You had that frazzled outlook on your face, telling others, “Please don’t bother me, I need to be alone.”
You complained about how you should have visited him a week ago. You lamented over his death, raising questions that pertained to his afterlife. Would he be happy? Where would he go? Would he still remember us?
All you ever wanted then was to have one more moment with him. Just one. A moment for better explanations and a wave of goodbye — promising him that you would visit him again a week later.
It was a cathartic experience I agree. July. We have come this far, you were back to your usual self. However, I still feel that a part of you is missing. I am unable to pinpoint what exactly it was. Maybe you hadn’t changed at all and perhaps, I think too much. Or maybe, his death took a part of you. I don’t know.
All that I can remember was the pain you experienced, the woe you tried concealing, the days whereby we had to hold a wake for him, those nights when you slept while tearing.
You could not bear to leave him. I know how you had felt. I genuinely did. In fact, we all did. But no matter what, just remember, we will always have your back.
Stay strong, my beloved Mother.
Written in response to WordPress’s Weekly Writing Challenge
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Thank you. I don’t mind at all 🙂 I’ll definitely check it out!
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Hi, Thankyou very much.
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This beautifully written, thank you for sharing.
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Thank you. You’re too kind.
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Immensely moving and beautifully written. Alienora
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Thank you again Alienora 🙂
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This is phantasmagorical.
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This is stunning, little bro. You have outdone yourself yet again! Brilliant! 🙂
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Aww thank you sis! I loved your poem! 🙂
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[…] Weekly Writing Challenge: I Remember (infinityythoughts.wordpress.com) […]
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Omg this is so beautifully written. My favourite post among all you’ve done. Keep it up! 🙂
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Thank you, I will definitely! 🙂
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Thanks for your input on my blog post. I write from a very honest place, as do you. Structure/organization is not my strong suit, as I have executive function deficits.
Your descriptive powers are remarkable! It’s sad how life and death chips away at a person’s very essence. Part of the journey, I guess.
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You’re very much welcome. I see. But your content is marvelous, nonetheless. Thank you! I thought it was important to delineate the characters more vividly so that the reader would have a clearer idea. Indeed so, it’s a cycle that we all face!
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You brought me back to the most tragic moment in my life Han.
I guess that every one of us never knows how much he loves his father except after losing him. How I wish I can hug my father again, how I wish I can kiss his hand and head again. On the day my father died, I prepared him myself, I cleansed his body and shrouded him with my hands, I traveled with his body to our family’s burial place, I prayed for him, then I buried him with the help of 2 men from the cemetery. I couldn’t allow anyone else to do any of those things, I wanted to take care of him myself like I know he would have done; if it were me who died first. One night, 3 years later after his death, I was suffering some insomnia, I got up, went to my favorite sofa, and started writing about my last moments with him before his death. Truly writing about such moments provides some consolation for one’s soul.
By all means, I appreciate your post very much.
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My condolences. I respect and thank you for being willing to share this personal issue with me. Also, I would like to also apologise for making you recall those melancholic moments. But I guess everyone has to face this phase of their lives sooner or later am I right? I can totally relate to you, your feelings, your emotions. Indeed, writing it all out allows one to organise our thoughts and move on from our previously disorientated mind. I’m really glad that you are so much stronger now. 🙂
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