I haven’t spoken much in a while. Much to a great deal of business and sadness that I’ve allowed to over take me. Walking this earth now knowing I cannot take a drive or make a phone call to the woman who gave me life is something so hard to swallow.
The claws it scratches at my throat leaves my voice high pitched in fits of anger. The mass is too much that I lose ability to speak – voiceless. In all moments I wish I could be as strong as I stood that moment. But I remember where reality struck and my mind knew. It lost the hope that everything would be okay.
When I arrived at the hospital and was called back – my mother was still in a frozen seizing state like what I had watched prior to the ambulance taking her away. I figured it would had stopped by now. My heart held that belief until the doctors questions tried to distract my eyes from watching what seemed to be the worse horror movie I ever laid eyes on.
This is rough to retell. And I am sorry, it burns deeply. I am in a place where I must release it. The flow and ingraining of this night is similar to this photo I took in the sky. That pathways craved deep into the land making movements that have given birth to all shapes and forms relate so similarly to where I stand this moment. Something has craved into me. At times it feels like they took my heart, others it’s the happiness I was beginning to gain, and other times it feels like I’ve been completely swept away – not even in existence anymore.
And I can’t stand any moment of hope someone lays upon me and takes it away – even in the slightest. For me I have such emotional thoughts and attachments to things that this triggers the lost hope I found this night.
Discovering hope is after things settle, normality, and new things begin. Making the turn to face a new direction in life begins a flurry of questions, and worry. Worry in which if I set forth will I now have to be as strong as I stood this night, which took so much, will I now live a life not of my mother and where shall she go, will I now be taken upon this whim – somewhere else so beyond – and do I have the power to make it what I wish it to be?
—alley scheffki
Flommist Alley Scheffki is 21 years young, ‘I am the blue rose. Dies ist ein wunsch für freiheit.’ Copyright © 2015 Alley Scheffki. All rights reserved.
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