..Two Months Now..How I am Coping..

It has been two months and 3 days now since that fateful day when Mak breathed her last. To say that I am moving on would be a lie. I think I miss Mak more now than I did when she first passed away because now reality had really sank in that we had lost her forever.

There were moments when I missed hearing her voice, but would be heartbroken knowing that I no longer could. Gone are the days when I spent my off days from work calling Mak and listening to her talking about Pa, about Will, about the neighbours, about home. Gone is the only person who is willing to hear my rantings. Going to the temple is equally as bad, because even if I spoke to her urn, there will never be a response.
Yes, I miss her voice.

I cannot bring myself to look at our wedding photos without having tears down my face. It is so painful to see moments captured with Mak, because my wedding was only one and a half months before her passing. It really hurts to know that a month before, Mak was able to walk and talk and be there for me albeit her illness. It pained me to remember how Mak helped me to prepare for my wedding - cleaning the house, going shopping with me, following me to my dress fitting even when she was weak. I chose to not look at my photos now - at least not yet. Because, yes. My heart still pines for the times I spent with her.

There is a part of me that want to believe that she is still around watching over us. People kept telling us that as time goes by, she'd be going further and further away from us. I want to believe and be convinced that Mak is really OK where she is. When she was alive, we were her pillars of strength and she placed all her hopes on the four of us. And when she died, we were worried if she was going to be OK facing it 'alone'. Our occassional dreams about her gave us some, if not minimal consolation. Daily I look out for signs or at least a clue that Mak is alright.
Yes, I still worry about Mak.

Sometimes when I am alone at home or during a shower, I would get flashbacks of Mak's last battle. Visions of her in the hospital were really painful - from being motivated about getting better to being demoralized that she is fighting a losing battle. I believed Mak fought till the very end, and it was very evident in the last week that I spent with her. My heart breaks each time I recalled those moments of excruciating pain that she had to endure, her last words to me, her last reminders. Crying could never erase those memories of her. I regret not being there with her at her last breath. Maybe it was fated.
Yes, I still cannot forget her pain and suffering.

Sharon wrote in her blog that it pained her to see the items that she knows Mak will like. It stabs me right in the heart looking at things that I bought her, or when I am eating something that I know she would like. When I go to the supermarket or mall, I have the natural urge to buy things for Mak, but I would be refrained by reality. The Mak at home is no longer there to beam at the noodles, canned foods, snacks, t-shirts, shoes etc that I bought.
Yes, I still feel like making Mak happy.

As I am writing this, tears are freely flowing down my face. I looked at a photo of her and her favourite kingkong earlier and I couldn't stop crying.
Perhaps tears are the best way to heal.
But tears will never wash the hurt away.
Ever.