I’ve been thinking about 3′s alot lately. How stories/films/documentaries- should have 3 layers, the black, the white and the grey. I always imagined I would have 3 loves of my life; the overly dramatic romantic and obsessive love, the loving love, the great love, the love you probably can’t be with, and then the one I can live with and love. The other 3 is a little harder to describe, I’m just figuring it out. I went swimming this morning and I was remembering when my mom was teaching me how to swim, and she slowly took her hand out from underneath my back to let me float on my own, I dropped, and started choking on the water. I got angry, I was angry for a while, but I ended up being the best swimmer in my family, and I’m always happiest when I’m in the water, so I guess not-so scarred. What I was reminded of with this memory, was that her dying isn’t a quick shock of death, but a gradual loss. The world- pieces of music, events, images, places that I learned about, looked at and listened to, while she was still in the world. The community around her and my myself, friends of hers, people in her neighbourhood who will grieve her, and our presence together out there, as mother and daughter, things we did together,which we will never do again, go for lunch, to the theatre, or shop. Even clear and lucid conversations are becoming more rare. We will have some more days of being out in the world together, but very few. Then there is my internal layer. The layer at my core in my heart where she lives right now. I am filled with love for her, like she is my child, my mother, my closest friend. Another 3.
A campaign to stop the madness in my brain
