When words fail

To write, to write, to write. I am always struggling to write. I am always looking for the deepest cut, the kind that scrapes out part of the flesh, the layers beyond the epidermis. I don’t want words that leave fleeting scratches or marks, or those that simply graze the surface. I need words I can swim in, can luxuriate in, that leave my fingers and toes wrinkled and pink from being immersed too long. 

My words are the quintessential essence of my being. At the end of the day  all I have are words. Words to describe the hotness of the heat, slowness of my breath, wetness of my sweat, tiredness of my body. I sit at my desk and drain out my words, but are those enough to induce love in another, enough to feel the intensity of pain? I wonder?  Can I be distilled, wrung dry, squeezed completely into a string of words? I wonder.

This is my attempt to describe the indescribable, struggling with myself about something I never thought I could write about. On 26th September, my mother in law passed away. It happened in the hospital within a matter of seconds and the best way to describe the moments that followed after are that they were filled with ineffable numbness. That was it. And I am failing here to find the right words. I am failing.

I cannot believe that everything I say now will be in the past tense. I am trying to, but I cannot comprehend the fact that Ma just won’t be there anymore. My heart feels like it can’t breathe, like it’s full of oil, like its expanding and only grief is being able to fill that cavity. Is there any way to erase this feeling?  She left behind  her son and daughters, grandchildren and her best friend, her husband, the strongest, bravest, self-made person I know who now hides his face with his two hands and weeps like a child.

All eyes have been wet. My arms have felt heavy like cement and I have wanted to rip my heart out and give it to my man. I want to collect all his sadness; his, my sister in law’s, my nephew’s, my niece’s and mine, I want to collect it all, wrap it up really tight and hurl it across the edge of the world. Is this possible? How does one feel light again?
But here I am, writing this note, taking a deep breath and acknowledging one of the kindest and most loving person there were. What a life she led, what a grand, grand life.

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Rest in Peace Ma!

 

 

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