A time to move on?

The most significant and defining event in my life was, is and will most probably be the death of my mother. I use writing as a way of expressing myself and somehow I have never really written about her life or death. It was never a conscious decision, but now I am consciously making a decision to write about her.

When people ask me how I felt about her death and how I feel not having her around now; my answer is much like anyone who has experienced a death of someone close to them. It was devastating and unbearably hard, I miss her but of course life goes on. That’s not a lie; those statements do have some truth to them. But it’s not the whole truth; I couldn’t tell you what the whole truth is because I still don’t know what that is.

Death is the one thing we all have in common, no matter what race, region, nationality or whatever else separates people, we are all going to die. You would think that that would make death something we should be able to understand and yet death seems like the most unnatural thing.

 I can’t say how I feel, if I can’t fully wrap my head around what happened. Not that I don’t understand that she’s gone and never coming back, I do. I don’t even know what I don’t understand. It’s difficult to explain which makes it difficult for me to talk about, to write about. If death was a novel, I would still be stuck on the first word of the first line. Five years later and I haven’t made it past the first damn word.

Not that I haven’t moved on, my life is not frozen on the 26^th of April 2007. I am capable of loving and being loved. I don’t run from relationships. I am not afraid of life because death is a part of it. I just am not able to tell you how it felt or how it feels. I know how it should feel and I acknowledge that I was sad and angry and just broken really but that’s not it entirely.

It’s somewhat comforting that I’m so puzzled by death. If I’m always confused by it, she’ll never be lost. I’ll be reminded of her whenever I try to figure it out. Not in a bad way or a sad way just the remembering kind of way. I’ve gotten to a point where I can remember her and not feel sad, where I can go a whole day and not think about her and not feel guilty about that.

Death has taught me that even though she is gone, I had her. For 17 years of my life I had an amazing mother who wanted me from the day I was born and loved me till the day she died. I had lost so much when she died because in her life she gave me so much.

I LOVE YOU MOMMY! And you’ll be my mommy till the day that I die.

Go on then.

It is difficult to understand why so many women emasculate their men. Surely it is as simple choosing a man you respect and then respecting him. Then you’re genuinely surprised when he cheats on you with someone who makes him feel like a man. Now I’m not man, hopefully that’s obvious, but I assume men want to be respected, needed and appreciated. So if you don’t respect him, need him or appreciate him why are you wasting his time and your own? Why are you setting yourself up for hurt?

Depending on where you are in life and what you’re looking for, you’ll be “looking’ for someone who is where you are. Why do woman date guys who are nowhere near marriage and then expect them to want to marry you one year down the line, he’s PROBABLY still not going to be ready for marriage.

If you want children why would you choose someone who you don’t respect and will most probably not value his opinions on how to raise your children? How exactly do you expect that to work out?

Then there are the unrealistic expectations, and this is the one that really baffles me. You want a gorgeous chiseled man and you don’t know why he has not arrived on his white horse to sweep you off your feet and wine and dine you. Ladies have you not noticed how swallow men, how swallow they’ve always been…why would that have changed now? You want to know where he is…he’s in the gym with the gorgeous chiseled ladies.

You want something; do what you have to do to get it. You want to get married, start dating men who want to get married, and you want a “real man” then stop dating boys. You want a Ken then start looking like Barbie. But for all that is good and holy in this world please stop giving men a reason to treat women like they are idiots and TAKE CONTROL. Weak and pathetic has never been a good look and right now most women are just that.

Also get your hands on Steve Harvey’s “Straight talk, no chaser”. It is fantastic, honest and super helpful :)

Forgive Me

Forgiveness is not my problem. Or maybe it is, but not in the normal sense. I forgive too much, too easily, too often without accessing the problem. I never think how things must change. If nothing changes then the need for forgiveness is inevitable.

I forgave him the first time he cheated.

I forgave him all the times after that.

I even forgave him when he snuck the mistress in my room when my mother came home early to surprise him.

I forgave him for the Pethidine again and again.

I forgave him when she got sick and he left me.

I forgave him when he did not come back for me.

I forgave him for not even thinking about me.

I forgave him when he took all her money and did not send any for groceries.

I forgave him when my brothers’ friends were doing grocery shopping just to keep her alive.

I forgave him after finding the pictures of his vacation with his mistress.

I forgave him for lying about not being able to come home.

I forgave him for letting her die.

I forgave him for inviting his mistress to the funeral.

I forgave him for taking such good care of my brother after he got the same sickness that killed her, the care he just did not give to her.

I forgave him for bringing his mistress into my mothers’ house.

I forgave him for getting his mistress pregnant.

I forgave him for letting his mistress tell me on my birthday, the birthday I shared with my mother.

I forgave him for making his mistress, his wife.

I even forgave him for never being a father.

It not that I am tired of forgiving. I just realized that the problem was that he was never sorry. There was never a moment of regret or shame with him. If he is not sorry, he will do it again. Does that not make me the fool? I just do not give him enough room to need my forgiveness now. I do not hate him or resent him. I just do not; when it comes to him...I just do not. I just cannot. How many times have I heard “they can only hurt you as much as you let them”, how many times have I said it? Well it is true! Life has given me a choice, my life or my father. And I choose life. There is just no room for both. I hope he can forgive me, but even if he cannot I will not be around to notice.

I love him, I was made to, that comes naturally to me, more naturally then loving myself but I am learning still. Learning to love him less and love me. And it will come because I made my choice, the right choice. The only choice...really.

Dear Men

Just because

1000 people died

I recently re-watched Blood diamond and while Leonardo DiCaprio is both a brilliant actor and a super gorgeous human being. This is not about him or about the movies’ actual story. This is about the underlying stories there. About the realities that are not glamorous enough to make into a film without Leo and Jennifer’s love story. I am about to be high and mighty and I am not about to apologise for it.

There is this weird thing that happens to most of us, after these kinds of movies...you have a sudden urge to save the world one starving African baby at a time (and just as quickly as it came, you get over the urge) and never think twice about the reality that so many people ALL over the world live in. This time before I forget about them and return to my first world problems I thought I would write about it. It is selfish and awfully naive to think that my writing about it on my little blog will make any difference at all, but I am feeling emotional after that movie and need an outlet.  

During the movie I cried the most when people died. The extras if you will. They were killed and moved to the side with no emphasis on their deaths. People really die like that and their lives somehow have less value in the eyes of other people. It is easy to remove people’s titles. It is easy to say 1000 people died, you never hear 200 sons; 400 mothers; 300 fathers; 80 brothers and 20 best friends died. I think it is important to remember that, even if we do nothing else. If you just stop for a second to think that people are PEOPLE. That would make a difference in your world. Your world affects mine and everyone else's. You would be doing a lot more than you think.

I am probably never going to move to a rural village and build an orphanage. I will however encourage you to treat people with love and respect no matter their situation...and show A LOT!!! of compassion.

Maybe you will stop and read it and tomorrow you will feed someone in need or maybe you will not. I will take my chances.

God bless people :)
(No matter what God you believe in!)