And My World Shattered

Writing has always been a tool I used to...well express myself.
To vent out frustrations.
Fears.
Confusion.
Moments of happiness.
Moments of thoughtfulness. 
And many many other things.

It's what I use to help process what I'm feeling, what I'm thinking, what I'm doing.
It's a way to tell the stories I want to tell and get the point I want to make across.

Things can be easier with writing. 
Especially when one can edit/revise/rewrite as much as they want before anyone else sees your words.

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I've always used writing as a way to help me cope.

But for the past couple of days....

I haven't known what to write.
How to write.

Writing is how I process.
Yet I...I still can't process this--
This tragedy.


Because on November 14th sometime between 7am-8am.
My sister came to work and delivered news that I had hoped and prayed to never hear. 


My Mother Dearest was dead. 


It was a real moment of "I have to be dreaming. Please wake up" 

I mean...I'd just seen her the evening before.
I'd given her a hug goodbye. Told her I loved her, and left the house to go pick up my sister from work so we could return to Happy Valley.

To hear that she...she was gone.

Has been probably the hardest trial of my life so far. 

I just...can't quite process it.
Not yet.
Maybe not for a long time.
It was just...so unexpected. 

My Mother Dearest has gone through so many trials already in her life.
Having faced down two different types of cancer and a lung related surgery...we were all gearing up for her to possibly need another surgery.

As for the past little bit she'd been having problems breathing. Couldn't walk up a flight of stairs without getting winded. Couldn't walk to the bus stop without needing to rest.

She'd been seeing the doctor, been visiting the hospital.
Hoping to find out the cause of the shortness of breath, of the tension in her back and the ache behind her eyes. 

Yet the tests she had done so far...were not showing much beyond that the bottom lobe of her left lung was possibly being pushed up in her chest from the scar tissue in that spot where they'd done her first lung related surgery. 

So that's what we were expecting.
That's what we were preparing for.

Another surgery. Another recovery time.
Another trial that would still see Mother Dearest here and well with us. 

None of us expected her to pass away.

Honestly.
It seems impossible.
Your pillar. Your mother. The one who could always go to to talk about everything and anyone whenever you wanted....

Gone. 

I didn't expect to have to go through this grief for at least another thirty years. 

She was too young. Far too young.

And at this moment...
We don't know why.
Why don't know how.

We're still waiting to find out what caused her to be taken from us so soon. 

It's hard.
Hard to process.
Hard to deal with all the consequences of her leaving us for the other side.
Adjusting to the new life we've found ourselves in.

It's going to be hard.
Hard for a long while until we can pull ourselves back up on our feet.

But I'm grateful.
Grateful that my family is so close to each.
So that we have been able to gather and support each other in this time of grief.
That we can stand strong and stand together. That we can move forward as one and that we'll be there for each other from here on out.

I'm grateful for those who have reached to us in our time of grief. To those who have provided for us, who have taken the time out of their days to say they're thinking and praying for us. 

I'm grateful that my family was able to spend this past weekend together. That the stars aligned so that all of us could be together for at least a couple of days watching movies, playing games, and just chatting. That is the memory that holds strongest for us. The days together. 
I'm grateful that there are no regrets. Grateful that we were together and that we'd all spoken to mom. 

I'm grateful despite how much I didn't want it to happen....for how she passed.

It was quick. It was peaceful. She was with my Dad. She was happy. She'd gotten the best night sleep she'd gotten in a while. And I'm pretty sure she was content.

Who knew that a normal conversation would end with "I feel really strange" and her laying down on the bed as if to take a nap?

Passing basically then and there onto the other side of the veil.

Quickly. Peacefully. With my Dad by her side.

I wish we could have brought her back. I wish that the CPR my Dad and then later the paramedics did for her could have revived her.

It wasn't meant to be. 


But I know she's still here.
Still around.
Still watching out for us. 
She'll be around. To guide. To protect. To help. To comfort.



Until you next read these words;
I'll be watching the leaves.
Enjoy the day!

-Sarnic Dirchi


Note: Posting may be sporadic for the next little while though I am hoping that with this post...it will help. Help my mind to calm. To be peaceful. Help me to once more take comfort in the writing and blogging that I love.