Oh, Fragile Heart

I must first apologize for the sob stories but this one has shaped me into who I am and so I MUST divulge.

When I was 10 years old, and 10 days before my 11th birthday, my mom died. Now, I know what you are thinking...."Oh! Poor Thing!" and you have every right to feel sad for me. I was basically a baby, and every little girl needs their mom around. Thing is though, when my aunt came and told me that my mom had passed (my sister and I were at her house as my mom attended doctor), I did not shed a tear. And of course, it wasn't because I felt no sadness, no grief, or no pain, I just did not know how to express that and so I just fell silent.

Shortly after receiving the news, I was talking to my dad on the phone and he was telling me that my uncle was coming to bring my sister and I to him in Nassau. I don't even remember saying that much to him, but I could feel the pain in his voice. My dad was only 38 years old when my mom died, and she was 41.

Next thing I knew, my cousin was walking with me to my house to pack some clothing for my sister and I for our trip to Nassau, and I remember the house feeling so different, and it was at that moment I began to break down in tears, realizing that my mom was not coming back home. It wasn't until I was in my home that the reality of my life had hit me like a ton of bricks, waves of sadness and despair and confusion crashing down on my soul like a tsunami.

And guess what, although I hadn't dwell on it much, what I heard next was enough to crush the soul of even the oldest, toughest human being. A cousin of mine (who shall remain nameless), although young, but still older than me, made a comment that somehow she was "glad" my mom had died, so that my sister and I can now go through what she goes through. What she meant was, she did not have the best life, and my mother was a nurse who was loved by EVERYONE she met and she LOVED her children and ensured we had everything we both needed and wanted. She was selfless, caring, patient, kind, and my own hero, and she was taken away. Why would a child, like myself, have such harsh things to say? As I got older, it became very clear- but again, that is a story for another blog.

Now, this blog isn't meant to gain sympathy, although the pain of losing a mother never seems to go away but it does start to fade a little every decade or so. March 2018 will make 17 years since my mom passed and I cry just as hard as I did that day I walked into our home.

But, listen to this. I SO believe in guardian angels and I SO believe that when God takes loved ones away from us he places them right back in our lives so that they can protect us and look over our shoulder for us.

Now, whether you believe what I'm going to tell you next, that is totally up to you but I must share! Shortly after my mom's passing, I want to say within 6 months of her death, I was at my maternal grandmother's home for the weekend as my dad was away. All of a sudden, I began having these sharp pains in my stomach. Now, being a mother myself, I can describe the pain as severe menstrual cramps multiplied by 100! However, it wasn't the onset of my period, as I didn't get it for another few years! It was unbearable and no one knew what was wrong! My grandmother and her sisters (may their souls rest in peace) tried every remedy they could think of to help me ease the pain; a nurse even came to see me and there was talk of sending me into nassau to see a doctor. This went on for HOURS but it felt like DAYS and all I could do was cry, sleep, and repeat.

Now here is where things got MIRACULOUS. As I was laying in bed, in excruciating pain, with no end in sight, I remember I was laying in my back and something told me to look up, sort of like above my head. As I looked up, I tell you, I saw my mommy and she was standing over me and she pressed her hands on my abdomen where the pain was and all of a sudden, I was healed. I remember running out of the room screaming at the top of my lungs telling my grandmother and grand-aunts that mommy had just healed me.

Everyone was just in awe but no-one ever doubted what I had experienced. That encounter, has been one of many in which my mom came to me, and took care of me in her own way.

I named this blog, "Oh, Fragile Heart" because my heart was broken at a very tender age, and I lost a big part of myself. And I believe that because I am holding on to the memory of my mother for all of these years, my heart will continue to be fragile, but having her come to me in my dreams, and even feeling her presence when I'm experiencing any kind of guilt, hurt, or self-doubt, she's there to bring me comfort and to let me know that she will always be here, cradling my fragile heart.

#motherless #loss #love #death #miracle #healing #believe #faith #fragile #heart