"Scenes From Another Room" - My Story: Part Four

"There are quiet places in my heart, ever since we've parted. Gentle, tender, traces of a song, places that belong to you..."

Part Four - "Saying Goodbye":

We got to the airport in Rio at the end of a most terrible day. I was in shock, I felt devastated, my body was exhausted and my heart felt as if it had been punched a thousand times.
The time of my flight was getting near, Antonio and I were saying our Goodbye's when I suddenly felt the urge that I needed to phone my Father. I rang his number, it was the early hours of the morning in England, and he answered it. "Hello Dad, it's me, just to let you know that I'll be getting on my plane soon" I said "Son..." he said "I have some bad news, I've just come from the hospital and, well.... I'm sorry Son but Mum passed away ten minutes ago" "Oh Dad!!" I said and broke down "O.k. Son, keep strong and I'll meet you at the airport when you land" he said.
Antonio was listening to me and he already knew and as soon as I put the phone down he put his arms around me, held me tight and kissed my neck. I didn't even think about keeping up our "public appearances" and I really didn't care, I felt like the whole world just got so much smaller.

My flight ticket was for me to return in one month so we said Goodbye at the departure gate and I passed through customs to get on the plane.
That journey was the worst that I have ever experienced in my whole life, I felt so sad and so unstable and all I could think about was my Mum and the fact that I was now going home for her funeral without getting to talk to her first, to kiss her or to hold her hand.
It was twelve hours of flight time and all I could do was sit there. I couldn't watch any films or read any magazines or books, instead I was just sitting there in my seat, looking out the window across the sky, and thinking and thinking and thinking, and crying quietly to myself.

Once I was in England I got my suitcase at the baggage claim and went through customs to see if my Dad was there. There was Dad looking ten years older with all the stress and grief written all over his face. I walked up to him and we put our arms around each other and cried. I had never seen my Father so devastated in all my life. We stood there for about twenty minutes just crying.
We got home and had a cup of tea and started talking about Mum. Dad explained to me that it had been a very difficult few months, and told me all about Mum's wish for me not to know anything. I could see in my Dad's eyes that this had all been very difficult for him and it was showing in his face. I didn't question why as I didn't feel it was the right time, but all I could think in my mind was how terrible I felt at not being there for my Mum when she had been there for me every step of my life, through good and bad times... I felt extremely guilty and just terribly grief-stricken and in complete shock at hearing the bad news only the day before.

The next day we were all sitting in the living room (my Dad, my Sister and I) and we didn't bother getting ready to go out or anything, we just talked and talked, and cried. As the days went on we were all getting worse, my Dad was falling apart and my Sister couldn't handle dealing with anything at all and in the end she couldn't even talk, instead just sitting upstairs in her bedroom alone and playing music.
My Nan was coming down from her house that day (she lived two hours from London) as we needed to start dealing with the funeral arrangements and inviting people, all those terrible things that need to be done fast...
My Dad said that he didn't think he could do anything, that he couldn't handle it all, so I said to him "Do you want me to arrange everything? I can do it with Nan, you don't have to do anything Dad... don't worry, I'll do it all" so he agreed and when my Nan arrived she came with me to the funeral home and arranged everything; the casket, the flowers, the cars, the funeral, everything.

The man in the funeral home asked if we wanted to see Mum and my Nan said no. I said "Yes I want to see her" my Nan looked at me and said "Are you sure? Wouldn't you prefer to have the memories of her as she was? it isn't her in there you know?!..." but I said "Yes, I really need to do this Nan, I need to say Goodbye" and she said "You're a very brave boy" and off I went into the little room to see her.
I stood there and spoke to her, I touched her hand and said that I was sorry that I wasn't there for her. I thanked her for everything she had done for me in my life and for all the love and support that she had given me and then I said Goodbye.

We got home to my Dad and Sister and told them that everything was done and that the funeral would be on the following Monday at 2.p.m.
"He did everything, I'm so proud of him and he has kept so strong" said my Nan to my Dad "Thanks Son" said my Dad, the permanent tears in his eyes "I don't need to be thanked Dad, it's my duty to Mum, I owe her at least that" I said breaking down in tears again.
Then came the time to phone all the family and friends to inform them of the funeral day, place and time. I phoned them all... awful phone calls with everyone crying, a terrible thing to have to do.
We went to the florists to order our wreaths for Mum and to write our cards out that go on the flowers: "My Darling Mum, I love you forever, I miss you forever, I'll carry your love with me all through my life... Your Loving Son... Forever"

The days leading up to the funeral day were terrible. My Dad and Sister were getting worse and worse and so was I. However I was trying my hardest not to show it and tried to keep strong for them both. I would go to bed at night and cry myself to sleep in my pillow, the tears were endless and I would beg to see my Mum in the darkness of the room, to be able to say Goodbye to her properly... but the room just stayed dark.

The funeral day was here and I felt as if I couldn't go through with it, but of course we all had to get through it together. Dad held mine and my Sister's hands as we walked into the church to the sound of the music that we had chosen for Mum "Places That Belong To You" by Barbra Streisand, one of Mum's favourite singers.
Once it was over then came the time to leave the church and say thank you to all the guests; family and friends. Everyone was in a line and we thanked each of them one at a time. This was the priest's idea and I didn't like it at all as by the time I got half way I was in a real state and my Mum's Sister, my Aunt, got hold of me and gave me a big cuddle. All the stress and heartache leading up to that day had just accumulated and I couldn't hold it all in anymore and just broke down, losing the strength in my legs as she held me up.
Everyone came back to the house but we all just wanted everyone to go home fast so that we could just be together... My Dad, my Sister and I.

I stayed there in England for a month and my Dad was gradually getting a bit better. I missed Antonio so much and just wished that he could have been there with me so that I could have been held and have him to talk to about all my feelings when we were alone.
My aunt, my Mum's Sister, was planning to move to Spain and said that now she was going to go as she didn't have my Mum there anymore. They were so close and would see each other every day. My Aunt still lives in Spain now and we keep in regular contact via e-mail and letters and she always says that we both ran away to different countries to escape the pain in London.

The time had come for me to return to Brazil. I felt so very sad having to say Goodbye all over again and we were all very upset again, but I had seen a small improvement in my Dad and Sister and I knew that they would be o.k. I also felt so pleased that I was able to help in some small way to arrange everything for my Dad, but mostly for my Mum.
We all said our Goodbye's and my Nan gave me an envelope full of money. I refused it but she insisted and said "Now listen here, I may not get to see you again, I'm not getting any younger so this is just something that would be all your Birthday and Christmas presents in one, so buy some furniture and things that you and Antonio need there in Brazil" "O.k. Nan, thank you! I will buy some nice things with it" I said and finally went through to get my plane.

When I arrived in Brazil I felt exhausted, sad, drained and extremely depressed. I was pleased to be getting home to Antonio and the thought that we would be together. I wanted to talk about so many things, all about Mum and everything that had happened in England.
I went through customs and there was Antonio, we put our arms around each other and went to get a cab to go home...
When we got into the apartment he said to me "I have some bad news" and I said "Oh no, what now?!" then he went on to tell me that he had got a job working offshore and was being sent to work away at sea the next morning for four weeks and that he would be home in a month's time and would then have four weeks at home... it would be like this each time: four weeks on and four weeks off.
I was devastated, I had come home only to be alone, depressed, sad, still in shock and grief-stricken, but we had no choice, he had to take the job.

So in the times that I would be alone, so as not to go completely insane, I started writing poetry, all poems about my Mum, grief and what I was feeling, and all this helped me a lot. It was like a psychologist for me and I feel that it helped me a lot, especially as I didn't have any friends or family in Brazil to talk to or talk about everything that I was feeling at that time.

It was a long three years of deep depression. I had felt o.k. when I came back to Brazil but then I got really bad and I realised that I had been holding everything in and still didn't really believe that everything had actually happened. I fell into a black hole and it took me three years to drag myself back out of it. Sometimes I would be on the street and see an old woman and realise in my mind that I would never get to see my Mum like that and I would get upset. Sometimes I would be in a supermarket and have to leave and go home as I would just start crying there and then in the queue full of people.
My feelings and sadness were all heightened and I couldn't control any of it. I think I was worse because I didn't have the support of my family around me, some kind of "healing"
Those three years are a blur and all I can remember is writing my poetry... of which I have the proof: a whole book written full of those poems that were spilling all my feelings and tears out onto the page. All the sadness I felt that inspired me every single day to write, and each poem would only take me ten minutes from the time I started writing it until the time I finished it... all my feelings were just pouring out into my writing and I really feel that they saved me, that's a fact. Then, after some time, my writing started getting better... improving in lightness and tone, along with how I was beginning to feel.... better... I was finally in the phase of acceptance.

Here is one of the poems that I wrote during that time, called "Grief" click here

So now that you have wiped away your tears upon reading all this sadness I promise that Part Five is going to be only happiness and joy - the road to the future, to this place that I have arrived finally with happiness, joy, wonderful memories and love... Thanks so much for reading!