Most Days

Most days 

I do the things I Love 

I seek out the things that make me happy 

I love the people around me that I hold dear 

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Most days 

I dance because I love the music 

I sing because I love the words 

I cry because I feel the passion 

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Most days 

I live my life 

Go from point A to point B 

Grateful for the day I have been given 

Hopeful for tomorrow 

Learning from the memory of my past 

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Most days 

I inhale the beauty that this world places before me 

I exhale the impossibles 

And I get myself to tomorrow 

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But ….. 

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Some days 

I miss the comfort of being able to call you any time of the day 

To hear your voice 

To vent insecurities 

To remind ourselves that we are queens 

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Some days 

I really miss the road trips 

The Cuddles 

And hearing your laughter 

I miss the way your hand held mine 

The way your laughter turned your face red 

And I could barely catch a glimpse of your eyes 

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Some days 

I fear that I will never be able to laugh again 

That I will forever only be able to giggle 

That I will only have enough happiness in me to smile 

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Some days 

I fear that I will never be whole 

Because you are no longer with me 

There will always be a veil of sadness 

There will always be a piece missing 

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Most days, mother

I tell myself that everything happens for a reason 

I find comfort in knowing that you are happy and at peace 

Free of the stress and struggle that the physical world hands us 

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But some days, mother 

My heart breaks from your absence 

My heart aches for the future we will not have together 

For the grandchildren you will not meet 

For the dances we will not dance

Songs we will not sing 

The unfinished dreams that you held in your pocket 

That never got to see the light of day 

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Some days, mother 

I miss you so terribly

I cannot believe that you are not here with me 

But I get myself together

Wipe the tears 

And I make it to tomorrow 

My Hands Are Your Hands

My hands are your  hands 

In the daintiness that they lay 

In the chubbiness that our fingers sit 

In the thickness that our nails grow

Your hands are my hands 

In the way that you snap your fingers as you dance

And flip your long hair 

And twirl your rings

My hands are your hands 

And it is a beautiful reminder everyday that you are still with me 

My Heart Hurts From All the Things I Can’t Do With You Mother

Dear Mother, 

There are so many things that I still wanted to do with you.  We always talked about more dances together.  We have gone out dancing together twice in our lives.  I thought we had so many more late nights left to go.  We joked about loving dancing so much, we would go out, you in your wheelchair, and me with my cane.  I so wanted to do that with you mother.  

My mommy dearest, we had road trips planned that we could sing our hearts out to.  We had vacations in mind.  We had scrapbooks to fill.  We were suppose to find ourselves at some French cafe loving the food but hating the portion size.  We were going to smile and giggle at the cute guys.  We were going to let me practice my one sentence of French that I remembered from High School.  You were going teach me how to truly rock heels like a pro, and get mad at me when I complained about how bad my feet hurt.  

My best friend, we were going to get tattoos together.  We said it so many times.  Even made plans to get one before you left on that airplane, but we never made it.  My heart hurts, mother, because I wanted that experience with you.  

My workout partner, my TAE BO buddy, my Zumba lover.  You were suppose to make it to my favorite Zumba class, I really wanted you to see how amazing he really is.  He’s never going to have that first dance with you mama, and my heart hurts because I really wanted him to have that with you.  

Mommy, I really wanted to pick that dress with you.  I needed you there to tell me I looked beautiful in that one or how horrid that other one was.  Mother, should I wear my hair up? Or my hair down?   Do I wear a veil?   I wanted to see you there, smiling, crying, happy to finally see me walk down that aisle.  Mother, I don’t know how I will make it all the way down that hall without breaking down, I truly don’t.  I can’t see how I will have the strength in that moment in my life.  

My heart hurts from all the things I can’t do with you mother.  There are so many things I still had planned for us.  There were still so many laughs, there were so many songs to sing and beats to dance to.  There were so many chocolates to try, roads to drive, planes to fly.  There were so so many more words to write.  

We still had to pick a grandmother name for you.  Surprise you when you would have a grandchild.  You were suppose to spoil her, you were suppose to comfort him.  

You were suppose to teach me how to cook ….. 

JUST KIDDING 

We were suppose to joke about how much we both suck at cooking.  

Mother, there really were so so many things I had left for us to do together.  It’s hard for me to truly believe that I will never be able to do these things with you.  It is hard to believe that you are not somewhere just writing away or dancing.  I miss you so much mother, you have no idea how much my heart hurts for you.  I love you, my mama. 

May we dance together again one day

With so so so much love, 

Your Daughter, 

Angelique Rose 

Angels Show Up in the Most Random Places

After losing my mom, I was flooded with messages from friends and family sending their love and condolences.  I found myself finding solace in talking about what happened.  In random conversation, I would start to talk about my loss, to anyone close enough to listen.  Coworkers in the break room,  friends on social media, any family that would listen.  I was reminded in these moments how much death is an awkward thing to talk about or more specifically, how awkward it is for others to listen and respond to someone else’s pain.  

I think a lot of people thought it was odd of me to talk about losing my mom so casually.  What they didn’t realize was that it helped me somehow.  It gave me peace to talk about her, even if it was about the day I lost her.  Maybe talking about losing her helped me cope and let the reality of it sink in.  I think maybe I kept replaying that day, and the information I learned to try to create some kind of theory about how and why it all happened.  Like some new clue would make things more clear.  

I don’t blame anyone for the way they dodged my conversation or the way they didn’t understand the hurt I felt from losing my mom.  I, myself, do not know how to react to someone else’s loss.  I often revert to the cliche “sorry for your loss”.  

I don’t think anyone can truly understand this loss I feel, unless they, too, have lost a parent or a child.   It’s a very lonely kind of sadness.  

Anyway…

In all my efforts to find comfort, talking to everyone and everything.  I connected with an Angel.   We met a handful of years ago.  She also lost her mother as well.  Talking to her really was a gift.  She gave me hope, comfort, understanding.  

I didn’t feel alone.

My hurt, wasn’t alone.  

What really shocked me was that, although we knew each other.  Knew of each other.  We never really had a conversation, and suddenly, here I was, talking with her about my deepest loss and she was not phased.  She wasn’t afraid to talk about loss or pain.  She wasn’t afraid to keep replying or forced to change the subject.  I wasn’t afraid to tell her how lonely this sadness was or how I was suddenly overcome with the fear of no afterlife.  

Okay,  story time :

Growing up, my mom always had an affinity for  dreamcatchers.  She had one in her car, she had some in our home.  She gave one to me as a kid.  

When my family and I went to the Philippines for my mom’s funeral, we stopped by the beach that she was at when she began to feel chest pain.  We just wanted some answers I guess, as to what really happened that day.  We were told that she stopped in front of a shop and became unconscious on their front door.  As my aunt and I asked a few questions, she looked up at the store that my mom happened to lay down at.  She was in awe, because the store was covered floor to ceiling in dreamcatchers.  She bought a handful of them for us.  It really just made me feel a little more at peace with what happened.   Like there was a touch of my mom wherever we went and that, no matter how devastated we are about what happened, GOD does things for a reason.  He calls people home when it is their time, and there isn’t really anything that we can do about that.  

I told this story to this unsuspecting Angel and one day, this necklace showed up in my mail.   She didn’t have to send me anything, she didn’t have to do anything for me, her conversation that day was far far enough, but she sent me this and it has reminded me every day that my mom is nearby and at peace.  

Thank you so much to the Angels out there that have such giant hearts.  That care when they don’t have to.  Love those that they don’t even know. 

 Just to bring peace to a broken heart.

I Love That…

I love that I think of you
In the moments that I am the most myself

In the moments that I am the most bare
In the moments that I am just me

You pop into my mind

I love that I think of you
In the moments that I am so passionate

When I sing my heart out
When I dance spontaneously

You pop into my mind

I love that I think of you
When I imagine strength

When I watch movies where a woman kicks ass
When I hear songs of a woman’s worth

I know you are near me

and, I will forever

Love that.