“God, are you there? Are you listening to me to me? I hate you, I’m so angry” were words of a 16-year-old me. I was finally grieving the loss of my mother, 13 years later. At that time I didn’t understand what had happened and why it had happened. It took many years, funerals, and painful nights to understand and to say that I love God and that I am not mad.
So how did this topic come about? I recently went to spiritual direction as I’m supposed to once a month and we talk about whatever the Spirit leads us to, and somehow it led to my spiritual director asking if I ever wrote a letter to my mom. To be honest, I can’t recall so in the upcoming weeks, I will attempt to write a letter to her.
Why the hell am I not mad at God (anymore) because I was able to let go. When I was 2, I didn’t have an understanding of what was going on, I was going through the motion. It wasn’t till I was 16 that I was angry, really angry, at my Confirmation retreat where I was questioning God’s love and my relationship with God. Only then one year later losing my Ông Ngoại. So, of course, I was angry, who wouldn’t be in my shoes? I was only two years old when my mom lost her battle against Lupus. I grew up not knowing that I was missing an essential part of my life, my other half. So it wasn’t until I was sixteen that I fully understood what it meant to me, to live without my mom, from watching shows such as Full House, Boy Meet Worlds, etc. Even though I could recall growing up being introduced as the boy who lost his mother as a toddler to my bà ngoại’s friends. That became my identity. I now know that I am so much more than that!
As I’ve grown older, I have witnessed my friends lose their parents and I feel for them; however, if I’m honest with them, I don’t understand what is it that they went through, from seeing their parents get sick, weaker, and slowly drift away. The experience that they have is nothing compared to what I went through as I didn’t comprehend at the time that my mom was sick, got weaker, and left me. I was asked if I remembered anything about her and I said no. I don’t remember her smell, her touch, her smile, her anything. I can’t even say I know what it is like to be yelled at by her or hear that she loves me. Which the latter, I know she does.
As I have come to terms with it, do I wish it never happened? I can saw with peace that I don’t as I know I wouldn’t be the person I am today without it. I don’t believe in the saying that “everything happens for a reason” but more so, I believe that God believes we can handle anything He gives us. I love God and I love my mom, who gave her life for me that I might live.