.png)
 |
| Bella Beilman ('22) |
Now, I sometimes feel as if nothing has changed. I have a
father and brother who unconditionally love me. But every now and then, I get
hit with a tsunami of sadness. I guess three years is not enough time to fully
come to terms with the fact that you will never have a mother again. Three
years is not enough time to escape from the tug on your heart strings every
time someone mentions their mother. And three years is not enough time to
understand that your mother will never meet the love of your life or be at your
wedding. Quickly enough, the tsunami passes and only leaves red eyes and a
runny nose in its place.
The majority of the time, I have accepted the fact that my
mother is dead. I have accepted that she is gone and will never again hold me
in her arms. The waves are softly hitting the shore. Every now and then a
friend will make a ‘your mom’ joke and I will reply ‘oh I wish I had one so you
could.’ At this time the waves grow a little bigger, but the tide pulls them
back down to normal quickly.
Still, I am uncomfortable with death. When death touches
another’s life my brain has a panic attack. I often offer to listen because I
understand like almost no one else, but it hurts. To continuously listen to
someone close to me talk about their pain and loss breaks my heart and only
fills my head with my mother. So usually, I sit and listen. I don’t say much
because if I did, I would break down quickly; I am trying to prevent two
tsunamis at once.
I have found that I am unlike most when dealing with loss. I
would much rather fight my own waves than allow anyone else to know I even have
them. My feelings are very personal and often too dark and blunt to share with
others. People are shocked with the way that I talk about it when I do, so I
simply don’t. I handle pain by putting up walls and allowing no one in, while
writing about it in my secret (well not so secret anymore) journal.
Most friends, when trying to comfort me, have absolutely no
idea what to do so they end up saying that they are sorry or trying to touch
and physically comfort me. I hate both of these passionately. Do not touch a
wave when it is so large that it may overwhelm or overtake you. Do not pity
those on the television who have had their lives destroyed by tsunamis.
Bella Beilman, of Louisville, KY., is first-year McConnell Scholar at the University of Louisville where she plans to study Economics, Political Science, and Middle Eastern and Islamic Studies.