Culture clash and grief

I haven't posted for a while because I have had loads of other stuff going on in my life, actually lately it feels like my life has been all about work.

Anyway, Christmas is upon us and I'm spending time with the family which is always great, chatting to Little Sis is always good for my soul and I am spending sometime with Little Brother and Baba tomorrow.

Last time I was here, Little Sis introduced me to a lovely lady who is sort of in the same boat as me... no she isn't a birth mother, but she was married to an Algerian man which unfortunately died when he was back visiting Algeria this summer.

It is strange that after so many years, I finally get to meet someone who I can identify with, someone who shares my experience of losing your soul mate.  Being from two different cultures is hard in any relationships but more so in death.  I tried  once to explain to Little Sis that for me a part of the goodbye would have to see him being lowered into the grave and that their tradition of having his body in the house before the funeral would have shattered me into so many little pieces I would never have recovered.

It is not that others don't empathise with us, it is just if you haven't being in our boat, how can you understand:

• how it is to loose someone when they were thousands of miles away from you and you did not get a chance to say your final goodbye before they died. 
• what it is like not to have a grave to go to as they are buried in their home country
• how we feel "alienated" from part of the grieving process because the cultural difference, including not not being able to attend the funeral
• the fact that your cultural background has a process of dealing with death you will need to follow and this might be at odds with your husband's family's beliefs.
• that we want to remember our husbands in our way - you see, you know your husband better than everyone in his family, there are things about him he would only you knew and this might be how you want to remember him.
• and finally, we that we do not want to find ourself a new man, partly because (for me I had already my soul mate) but also that we are worried that if we fall in love again and this person too might be taken away from us.. 

the only person who can understand this is someone who have walk down this path before you... I just hope that I can be there for this lady the way I wished someone could have been there for me.

For today, the two of us are spending a day together and she is taking me to  a beach somewhere, I did suggest that we did something for our beloved hubbies like maybe get some flowers and have our own private memorial service for them.  She thought that was a good idea and I'm actually am really looking forward to this.   Strange... but I think I have never actually had a "memorial service" and I do not think she had one either.  For me it might be nearly 17 years late but as they say better late than never.

Hopefully, today is a step towards healing both of us and maybe a start of a wonderful tradition for the both of us.

A Tragedy

Earlier this week, a young man I know committed suicide and when his father came to give me details of the funeral, this poem was included and I hope his parents don't mind I share it with you. It is so fitting for their son.

As I look up to the skies above

As I look up to the skies above,
The stars stretch endlessly--
But somehow all those rays of light
Seem dimmer now to me.
As I watch the morning sun appear,
The shadows still don't fade—
As if the brightest light of all
Was somehow swept away.

Though I see the branches swaying,
And watch their dancing leaves--
The echoes carried on the wind
Don't sound the same to me.
As I listen to the morning birds
Sing softly from afar--
It seems to be a mournful tune
That echoes in my heart.

Another day has come again,
As time moves surely on--
But nothing now seems quite the same,
To know that he is gone.
The days and weeks and months ahead
Will never be the same--
Because a treasure beyond words
Can never be replaced.

The loss cannot be measured now,
The void cannot be filled--
And though someday the grief may fade,
His mark will live on still.
For even with my heavy heart,
I know that I've been blessed
To have been one who's life he touched
With warmth so infinite.

The tragedy of this senseless death was that he didn't leave a note for his parents nor were there any indication that he was feeling so low. I just wish it was more I could do for the family... a hug and a bad an offer of a shoulder to cry on is the most I can do for them.

Grief is like the Tears Of A Clown

With losing Uma this week, I had forgotten how some people react when you lose someone, a lot of people are worried about what they say to you.

When I lost Radouane, my old boss told to me that the best thing he could do for me, was to go on as normal. He knew that one day I would break down and when that happened he would understand. Those were wise words and I have lived by them since.

When someone around me have lost someone - I will always avoid using words like "I'm sorry" or "My Condolences", because I find them insincere, I also remember I got angry when someone said it to me. I end up saying something like: "I'm here if you need to talk or just to come and scream at someone". It sounds a bit cold but what else can you say. Someone telling me "I'm so sorry" made me want to shout: "NO YOU ARE NOT YOU ARE HAPPY IT DIDN'T HAPPEN TO YOU". Grief cannot described, it has to be experienced to understand.

I'm one of those people whom always seems to be smiling on the outside - the calm, collected one others come to when they need help - it is so far from the truth. That got me thinking of a poem I liked when I was your age, it had had a line in it that went something like this "behind the painted smile, no one can see the tears of the clown". Because the line sums up the way I'm feeling, I wanted to find the poem again. I could't find it but found this poem instead...

You don't see the pain I bear
I hide my sorrows well
Seeming happy on the outside
While the inside hurts like hell

I make a joke, I make you laugh
You really have no clue
You think you know me very well
Have I got news for you

I only let you see enough
To think you know my life
Never will you see the true me
Only I can know my strife

No one else can know my heart
I've hidden it away
I've covered it with make-up
Made of jokes and laughters sway

You'll never see how much it bleeds
How much it's torn apart
You can not know the damage there
Deep inside my heart

I always hide myself away
No one can see a frown
You'll only see the happy face
Never see the tears of this clown.

I would like to thank the author... whoever they might be.