Daļa no manas vasaras prakses ServiceSpace.org ietvēra sarunu uzsākšanu ar cilvēkiem, kurus nepazinu, un viens no jautājumiem, ko es viņiem uzdotu, ir – ko viņi dzīvē zina droši? Kaut ko tādu, ko viņi zina pilnīgi droši. Kad man sākotnēji uzdeva šo jautājumu, tūlītēja atbilde, kas man ienāca prātā, bija nāve. Nāve ir visur. Un es nedomāju, ka nāve ir visur kaut kādā ciniskā vai morbidā nozīmē, bet gan nāve ir neizbēgama dzīves sastāvdaļa. Tā vietā, lai uztvertu nāvi kā kaut ko labu vai sliktu, tā ir vienkārši kaut kas tāds, kas notiek.
Kad man bija 12 gadi, es mācījos internātskolā, kas bija arī templis. Mani vecāki atbrauca mani paņemt ziemas brīvlaikā. Mana mamma plānoja palikt templī rekolekciju laikā, bet es lūdzu viņu atgriezties, jo es beidzot būšu mājās. Mana mamma mani uzklausīja, un mēs sākām doties atpakaļ uz manām mājām. Tuvojās krēsla, un lietus smidzināja. Pirmo reizi kopš es devos uz internātskolu, mani vecāki un es jautri sarunājāmies mašīnā bez jebkādām strīda pazīmēm. Es nevaru teikt, ka atceros precīzu brīdi, kad tas notika; es pat nevaru teikt, ka es vispār atceros, ka tas notika. Nākamā lieta, ko es miglaini atceros, ir pamošanās slimnīcas gultā, un nākamo dažu dienu laikā es te atkal pamodos, te vairs nebiju apziņā.
Nāve izrauj attiecības, un mēs lielā mērā esam savu attiecību kopums. Attiecības starp māti un bērnu ir īpaši unikālas un neaizstājamas. Kā pateikt bērnam, ka šīs attiecības ir pārtraukusi nāve? Es tieši neatceros, ka man būtu teicis, ka mana mamma nomira autoavārijas vietā, bet tas mani satrieca, kad mājās braucām tikai es, mans brālis un tētis.
Ir kāds citāts: "Kad nomirst kāds mīļš cilvēks, un tu to negaidi, tu viņu nezaudē uzreiz; tu viņu zaudē gabalos ilgākā laika posmā." Un tā tas bija ilgu laiku. Bērnībā tikt galā ar bēdām ir ļoti savāda lieta. Manas mammas bēres bija tieši nedēļu pēc viņas nāves, un es tik tikko spēju aptvert notikušo. Es biju sastindzis un nezināju, ko just.
Nāve ir tik pēkšņa un negaidīta, ka mēs piedzīvojam sava veida šoku. Tās pēkšņās beigas, un tad vairs nekā nav. Vairs nevar atsaukt visu, kas bija izdarīts, vairs nevar atsaukt lietas, kas būtu bijušas. Tieši pēc šī viena brīža, kas visu maina, viss pārējais ir par vēlu. Un tā droši vien bija vissliktākā daļa - bēdas par to, ka nezināju, kā būtu, ja mana mamma būtu klāt lielajos un mazajos notikumos manā dzīvē, pasaulē. Gadiem ilgi es nezināju, ko darīt ar šīm bēdām, un tās, iespējams, izpaudās tādos veidos, par kuriem es pat neapzinājos.
Bet laika gaitā tu samierinies ar šo zaudējumu. Ne jau tā, ka tu ar to samierinies, bet gan tā, ka tu iemācies to pieņemt tādu, kāds tas ir.
“Sēras var būt nasta, bet arī enkurs. Tu pierod pie svara [un pie tā], kā tas tevi notur vietā.” Manas mātes nāve kļuva par enkuru – savā ziņā tā mani nomāca. Es pieķēru sevi pie tā, ka runāju par viņas nāvi daudz vairāk nekā nepieciešams. Tā bija kā skumja dziesma, kas atkārtojas uz salauzta plates atskaņotāja. Es centos radīt iespaidu, ka mana pāragrība un atbildība pēc mātes nāves kaut kādā veidā bija triumfējoša un parādīja spēku. Lai gan viņas nāve ir bijusi viena no sliktākajām pieredzēm manā dzīvē, es sapratu, ka šī nebija pirmā sliktā lieta, kas ar mani notika, un, iespējams, arī ne pēdējā. Nāve var sniegt neskaidru un sagrozītu realitātes skatījumu.
Citos veidos manas mātes nāve bija enkurs tādā ziņā, ka tā palīdzēja man saglabāt mieru. Kad notiek citas ne tik labas lietas, ja es sev veltu laiku un speru soli atpakaļ, satraukums kļūst mazāks. Tā vietā, lai to uztvertu kā atsevišķu slikta notikuma daļu, es varu redzēt plašāku ainu. Plašākā mērogā šos ciešanu brīžus papildina prieka brīži. Bez mammas klātbūtnes esmu kļuvis daudz tuvāks savam tētim, un mūsu attiecības ir lieliskas. Šī saskarsme ar nāvi ir likusi man lolot arī citas attiecības, kas manā dzīvē ir. Neatkarīgi no tā, vai tas ir nāves vai kāda cita iemesla dēļ, nekad nevar zināt, kad kāds var būt uz visiem laikiem prom no tavas dzīves, un tu nevēlies laiku, kas pavadīts kopā ar viņu, uzskatīt par pašsaprotamu. Viņas nāve man ir palīdzējusi būt atvērtākai un meklēt atbalstu citiem, un esmu satikusi daudz dinamisku cilvēku. Un smalkos veidos viņas nāve ir iemācījusi man būt pazemīgākai pret dzīvi.
Nāve ir dīvaina lieta. Lai gan tā notiek visu laiku, tā var pārsteigt. Būt cilvēkam nozīmē pilnībā apzināties, kā tu reaģē un tiek ar to galā. Neļaut tai tevi pārņemt, neļaut tai apsēst. Bet arī neļaut tai paslīdēt pārāk tālu, lai nezaudētu šīs realitātes tiešumu. Jo tieši zaudējot kaut ko tādu, ar ko tik cieši identificējamies, mēs varam sākt atrast sevi.
Lai noklausītos iepriekš minēto autora balsī, noklikšķiniet uz atskaņošanas pogas zemāk:
COMMUNITY REFLECTIONS
SHARE YOUR REFLECTION
17 PAST RESPONSES
I came close to losing my husband a year ago. He has struggled and suffered tremendously this last year and now I see he is slowly getting ready to pass on. I've been learning what grief is, when life takes from you, that which you experience as a foundation is gone. Everything you relate to, formed by the relationship molding your your experience is transformed. Change is the one thing we can learn to embrace and are certain to face, as we proceed down the path of life. Finding who we are as individuals woven into the threads of the fabric of life, ever intertwined. Knowing that what we have shared with those close to us, never ceases to influence and in some instances becomes more pronounced, when a person is no longer in direct contact physical contact with us. The tracks of the aura left by that person seem to comfort and remind us how we've been shaped by our experiences with them.
I appreciate you sharing such a personal story, in such a mature way. It is all about perspective and thank you for your wisdom.
amazing... I have lost a loved one recently but I hVE TO ACCEPT IT..(
THANK YOU FOR SHARING ...
Thank you Thao for sharing your life and for me to learn my lessons . My father and father in law passed away 21 years ago within a month of each other and till today there is an emptiness within me . They were good human beings and I keep remembering and implementing in my life the values and examples they set forth in their lives . Blessings to you .
Thao-- you have no idea what it meant for me to read your story today. Yesterday I asked my mother (whom I also lost when I was 12) to send me a sign about a really tough relationship decision I have recently made. Was it the right one? Could she somehow let me know that I had done the right thing? And, to my disbelief, 6 hours later, your words appeared in my inbox. Through you, she has reminded me of that critically important aspect of life that we often lose touch of: perspective. When you can cope with losing the most important person in your life, you learn that life will go on and to take nothing for granted--especially yourself. So thank you for being the messenger through whom my mother could reach me today. All the best to you.
Thao Phi, The last words you spoke, in the recording of your story, were "thank you for listening". Well I'd like to say "thank you for sharing!" Please continue "talking" (writing) . . . we WILL glad-fully listen to you as your mother now does from heaven. Though physically not present, spiritually, your mom is more present than she has ever been before. You are a strong young lady! Much love to you!
Mothers unconditional love never dies, Life andDeaths are two side of the same coin,spiritualy death is to physical body not soul.we just change clothes.one of my 92 yearfriend use to say every morning with cup of coffee - I hope you live always and I never die.life is creation of lord,we are all his children so our true self is also eternal always love navin
As a parent I can say that if I had to go in a car accident like your mom did, it would mean a lot to me that the last act I did was show my willingness to be flexible for the girl I adore the most. Knowing that you survived and found the power to keep living is that much more valuable. Make the most of your life, find your way and experience it to it's fullest and her dreams will continue to come true. If I had one wish it would be for my children to have that.
We
bereaved are not alone. We belong to the largest company in all the world--the
company of those who have known suffering - Helen Keller
We
bereaved are not alone. We belong to the largest company in all the world--the
company of those who have known suffering - Helen Keller –
A person dies but a relationship never dies.
That is the beauty of death.
Bless you, Thao.
At 16 I performed CPR on my mom in the middle of the night, and although she never regained consciousness she remained alive three more days - long enough for the rest of the family to say their good-byes.
You have captured the feeling of the finality of death very well here. That helpless feeling of not being able to go back, and the final acceptance that it is, what it is.
It is hard to go through the big milestones of life without a mother. I married, had two children (buried my dad, two brothers and a sister along the way too), and at age 50 I still wonder. . . who was she? Who would she be as an older woman? What were her dreams? What would she say about my choices in life?
I don't think about her as much as I used to, but did today reading your story. I like your reminder to "not ... let it slip too far away that you lose the immediacy of this
[Hide Full Comment]reality. Because it's in losing something that we so closely identify
with that we can begin to find ourselves."
Thanks for sharing this Thao. You describe your experience of loss so poignantly. I've posted your final words on my Facebook page, Joyful Mourning. Check it out. http://facebook.com/joyfulm...
sorry, and thank you, i understand completely, Ive loss so many pple, im almost alone, and it does make you realize whats important and whats not. theres one thing I checked on was 150 000 pple die every day, so if you are going through it know your your not alone, there is 149 999 other pple feeling the same as you. :)
My closest encounter with death was in 2011, July when i lost my dearly adored wife. We had been married for 7 years. I had never been so deeply devastated in my entire life. My central purpose for existence had been shifted, and shifted forever. Since then, i have learned to appreciate the gift of life more than ever before, but most importantly, i am constantly happy that i once shared my life with the most beautiful and sweetest soul on earth.
My mother was killed when I was 15, and I can so relate to this writer. I am 71 now, and I still think of my mother every day. I believe that experience has enlarged my life in so many ways I can still hardly imagine. We will all experience it, but an early death changes everything forever.
I am not scared of death, but have a feeling that it must be the most peaceful passage from earthly dwelling to the unknown. Feel like experiencing it