An un-healable wound
It aches my heart every day when I came downstairs thinking of what happened to you that morning. You must have felt really bad walking down the stairs in your serious condition before you collapsed in the bathroom.
It aches my heart remembering when you desperately tried to breath and couldn’t. You were in my arms but I was so helpless to keep your life from leaving me.
It aches my heart when I look at pretty things, big and small, that you collected and decorated around the house. It seems like you have left your touch, your scent in every room and on every wall.
It aches my heart walking by myself in the garden, especially in the spring. After a long winter, many plants you personally planted have come back strong and healthy. Why couldn’t you come back like them?
It aches my heart walking on the streets that we used to walk, seeing places that we had been together. Without you, I have such a heavy feeling of emptiness.
Without you, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year are not the same. On Mother’s Day, there is no special one to bring home impatiens and plants for the garden.
You were really gone but your voice, your face, your smile, your scent are still here. Your absence leaves an un-healable wound in my heart…
May, 2007
It aches my heart every day when I came downstairs thinking of what happened to you that morning. You must have felt really bad walking down the stairs in your serious condition before you collapsed in the bathroom.
It aches my heart remembering when you desperately tried to breath and couldn’t. You were in my arms but I was so helpless to keep your life from leaving me.
It aches my heart when I look at pretty things, big and small, that you collected and decorated around the house. It seems like you have left your touch, your scent in every room and on every wall.
It aches my heart walking by myself in the garden, especially in the spring. After a long winter, many plants you personally planted have come back strong and healthy. Why couldn’t you come back like them?
It aches my heart walking on the streets that we used to walk, seeing places that we had been together. Without you, I have such a heavy feeling of emptiness.
Without you, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year are not the same. On Mother’s Day, there is no special one to bring home impatiens and plants for the garden.
You were really gone but your voice, your face, your smile, your scent are still here. Your absence leaves an un-healable wound in my heart…
May, 2007
posted by An Nguyen at
8:04 PM
1 Comments:
Dear Mr. An Nguyen,
I just came accross your website by chance, and learned about the unfortunate event that your family suffered last year.
As a Vietnamese, I'm deeply moved by the love you and your family have for one another.
People learn from pains, and although it's a great pain to see someone we love passed away, we learn something from it too. We learn to cherish every moment we can share with our loved ones. We learn to give out everything we have to them, before it's too late. We learn to cope with life on our own, before we can no longer stand on our own feet.
I myself, only 18 years old, have not suffered a single loss of my loved ones. But I always remind myself that one day, everything will disappear. I personally had a period of obsession of death, when I couldn't do anything but think about when will I die, when will my parents leave me etc. and everywhere I go, everything I see, those questions haunt me. It's also a pain to know that some day you will be the only one left standing there coping with the storm of life. Or even more unlucky, you might be the one who drop out of the ship first and leave everyone you love on board. Either way, you're separated, alone. And I couldn't accept it.
And only until I learned to accept it as a fact, everything seemed brighter. It is death that gives meaning to life. It is death, that motivates us to live. In the face of death, everything means nothing at all.
I believe your wife was well aware of that. And I believe that she lived her life, giving all she could for those she loves, and even for those she didn't even know. I believe she had no regrets at all. Because she knows that you, and your children, all love her from the bottom of your hearts. And I believe you shouldn't have any regrets about her passing away. Instead you should be proud to have the love of such a precious woman.
I'm only a child, compared to your age. And I'm in no position to tell you about how life is supposed to be. I'm too young to know all the truth and complexity that I will have to face when I grow up. I only want to share with you the pain that recurs everyday when you walk down that stairs, when you see those beautiful things your wife decorated, and especially when you watch your children grow and realize that your daughter looks so much like your wife.
Yes, your wife already entrusted you with her most precious gifts. You can't find her smile, her voice, her face, her scent anywhere else but in your children. And I believe that they love you too.
I share with you the pains and sorrows, although I'm just a passer-by. And I share with you the love, for the same Vietnamese blood is running in our veins.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home