Sunday, March 6, 2011

confession? emo moment? venting?

This is something that's been on my mind for well, a year now I guess. Never really wanted to talk about it to anyone, cause in a sense it's something I have to sift through, but I think I also need it to go out there. Since I doubt anyone will actually read it here, I figured it would be the best of both worlds to put it here.

Be forwarned, this isn't a happy post. Not quite sad either, but I am feeling like I'm having one of my emo moments so skip it if you're looking for something fun and coherent.

......................................................................................................................................................................


Alright back on topic.

First a little about myself. I'm a somewhat religious person, Roman Catholic to be precise. I'm far from a fanatic and I don't blindly agree with all of the churches official stances. I'm no religious expert either, but I do find comfort in it and I do attend mass every week or so with my Godmothers. I still find it can drag on at times, but it can also be inspiring.


Now let's jump to a little over a year ago, my godsister was in the ICU. She's always been in and out of the hospital, but this time it was really bad. Family and friends visiting her at the hospital, some of us everyday. She was never concsious during this time. All throughout this time, during my lunch break at work, I would head to the basilica nearby (which is also the church I attend every week) and pray for her. After about a week or so came the news, she didn't make it. Before anyone assumes anything, this hasn't shaken my faith. I still believe in God. I don't blame him/her for this.

I still found comfort in knowing that she's up there with him. Looking down on us, with a smile and probably a snarky comment in my direction.

Except, now when I go to mass, there's always this bittersweet feeling. No matter how good or bad I'm doing, no matter what's going on that day, just being in the church will invariably remind me of her and that time. Like I said, it's a bittersweet thing. I love that church and wouldn't want to worship anywhere else, but at the same time I get this sad moment. When I'm feeling down it pops up a lot, but even when I'm having a pretty happy time, I would always get a little down.

It's been over a year, but sometimes it still feels like it was yesterday.

I miss you, I never told you this when you were alive, but I love you. You're were a second sister to me. I just wish my prayers would've been enough...

4 comments:

katsidhe said...

I wish that I had magic words to make the pain stop, dear. :(

But then I've always felt that the pain we feel is a testament to how much we love the ones who aren't with us now. It hurts, but it's a reminder that I loved enough for there to be such pain.

*hugs*

bobo said...

Thanks *hugs*

It's ok for the most part, but never fails to creep up when I visit the church.

Heather (aka Sugar Free) said...

I have been going through a bit of the same for the past year. I blog about it from time to time and the process of doing that makes it just a little easier to cope sometimes. Triggers. They suck.

bobo said...

Sorry to hear you've been going through the same thing too. I've been uncomfortable sharing this with any one I know offline, but writing it out has helped.