Losing your parents isn’t easy. You miss them during all the new steps you make in life. I’ve also lost my grandparents and I remember the first new step I made and couldn’t call my grandma. This is what life is. I suppose I have to toughen up. Grow up. Be big. Whatever that means. Take care of myself. And at the same be sad that they aren’t here. No cuddles, no I am proud of you, no I love you, no questions about your life, no help, no base. It is as if the base is gone for a really long time and I just have to deal with it. Every big step that comes I worry who will be there to cheer me on or cheer me up. There is no love that you know is just there and you don’t have to question. So, I suppose I am left with having to love myself. As everyone. It is just really rough. I barely bump into anyone else with the same experiences. It makes me feel very different. I suppose I am. I suppose it is a very different situation to others growing up and I wouldn’t wish it on someone else. I know there are other orphans out there but I have never spoken to one my age. I am 28 now and I have the desire for recognition. I find it a little in others who feel lonely sometimes or miss a parent. They know that the date of their death is a big deal or that every new step is to be done without them.
I still panic at every step. As if I can’t carry or bear the loneliness. I can totally do every step that comes my way. It’s just that I miss that special person by my side who will comfort me or say that they are proud. I guess I am finally accepting that this is what it is. They are dead. Gone. They won’t come back. No one to be angry with, happy with, share sad moments, help each other, be interested in one another. It is what it is. And how do I wish that it was different. Maybe the longing will never leave. The longing for an arm around me, some words of consolation. Just that they are there. It’s something to deal with.
On the 15th of June I watched a video of me and my mother. We are so alike. Our intonation is even the same. Our laugh is the same. Our interest in another is the same. It goes as far as asking the same question twice just to get the message of the other across. That is what it means to be really interested I suppose. I never got the chance to become my own person though. We were really close and then she died. I suppose my view of love is a bit tainted. Tainted with child love that you just fuse together while you actually are you own person and not everything about you is the same as your mom.
I don’t let panic overwhelm me so far that I am not able to drive a car, work or find my own place for example. I have finally figured out that you have to choose a partner that is good for you and not just the next that comes along. I keep in contact with family and I don’t just cut off all contact. I love harmony. Yes, I am different to my mom. And we are also the same. I call others when I am overwhelmed, I am scared of numbers, forms and anything technical whilst I can also fix things. I am in your face, flirty, have international friends, love dancing and writing. I am full of life just like both my parents were. A bit boundless. That is something that I am learning too. Taking care of myself and seeing my limits. Saying no. Maybe next time. It’s part of life. And people in the Netherlands are direct. So. Yeah, might as well be. I like to have tact though. I don’t like hurting others and if there is no need, why would you?
Who knows, maybe there is a pen pall or someone out there going through the same. Someone who wants contact. Or someone who just takes consolation in reading this. I suppose I always wanted to write a book to be understood. Maybe this blog is my way of showing: this is what my life is like and it is a bit different. It is what it is and maybe you find some consolation in it. Maybe some recognition or empathy. We have to deal with all parts of life: hard, fun, beautiful and so on.
I hope you have a lovely day wherever you are. Until next time! x