 | The Saddest Thing I OwnA collection of life's saddest objects, their sad stories, and our reasons for holding onto these sad things. |
My Cousin :( Rip Derrick Michael!
Posted On Tuesday November 17, 2009 By Christinaan aeropostale hoodie, a hat, and a half of a 1 dollar bill dated around 2001.
My cousin took his life in September and I can’t get past it. I love him and miss him and cry.
My aunt gave me his hoodie and hat for Christmas because she knew I wanted something of his.
The half of a dollar bill we ripped one in half on his birthday one year and said whoever got their licence first we would tape it back together and put it on thier dashboard. He got his first, but lost his half lol.
I love you Derrick
Tags: cousin, dollar, hoodie, licence, ripped
A Collection
Posted On Saturday May 16, 2009 By DraceA collection of memories stored in a purple heart wood box. A collection stored in my heart. And a single photo of the most influental woman in my life.
My aunt died when I was 7. She would throw the biggest 4th of july parties. The whole town would show up and she had such an amazing fireworks show. She gave me the love I have for pets and the great out doors. She gave me the ability to look up and really see the silver lining. She was not able to have children of her own.
Razia my first kitten… She was stolen from me while I was out of my apartment. She was what kept me going when I lost my first job and my then finace left me for another girl. She was my child.
In my box I carry a belt buckle, my best friends father wore it all the time. when we where 16 he passed away from cancer. Her mom couldnt tell her. So instead I was asked to do it. The day before this happened our other best friend had died.
Although bad things have happened in my past, I’ve learned to hold my head up and take just one more step… and then another. I’ve got half of a tattoo series completed. A sleeping kitten and a sleeping Dragon both upon my shoulders. and above them will read
It Cant Rain All The Time
I lost my job on the 17th and on the 18th my car cost me every last penny I had. But I paid it. I need it. I will go forward and things will be better.
I will always carry my memories, my purple box, my luggage.
But I’ll do it with a smile on my face even when its almost impossible to smile.
Its who I am.
Tags: death, memories, optimisim, pet, rain
Mother's Day Card
Posted On Tuesday September 2, 2008 By Anthony
The saddest thing i own is the last mother’s day card i gave to my mother. The card contained a poem that said something like:
Draw a bath, light a candle
There is nothing you can’t handle
Close your eyes, dream a dream
Change your horses in midstream
Tell your feelings they’re ok
Let your soul come out to play,
Mother, in all that you do,
Take care of you.
I was taken aback by finding this card in the shop as it said exactly what i wanted to say to her in the nicest way.
I grew up thinking that not being happy about anything was normal. My mother never seemed to be happy at all. I can’t remember a single time or period growing up when I could say that she was happy. She always seemed like she wanted to be doing something else with her life and felt trapped with her situation. I tell you growing up with this mess of a mother was hard, particularly as I loved her with all my heart. I sometimes imagined life without her and it scared me to the point that I was in tears. I went from being very young and thinking that being sad all the time was normal, to being a little older (11) and thinking how can I change the way my mother is …. I wanted her to be happy so bad. I wanted her to be happy despite my own feelings of being completely sad and depressed. She used to say things like….I wish I could go out and get knocked down and killed by a truck….and the very sad thing is …. I thought this was what normal moms say….how fucked up is that!
I grew up with no self esteem. It was sometimes noticeable to others but I did all I could to hide it from people. I cried myself to sleep all the time. I was the smiliest child growing up. Smiling was like a defense mechanism for me. But inside I was dying. I didn’t want to be alive and I didn’t know why….I wanted to come to an untimely death from the time I hit my teenage years. I prayed to God to let me die. I never tried to kill myself but I hoped and prayed that I would die and it would all end.
I went through high school and got good results, but my low self esteem kept me from playing any sports, or just being a normal boy. Still no one knew of this because I kept on smiling.
I went to university because that’s what my parents thought that coming from a poor household, this would be a great achievement. I struggled through university..taking 6 years to complete….I couldn’t care less about it.
My mother kept on struggling too. The kids were all growing up and she had no one to focus on anymore. You would think that at this point she would find some stuff to keep her busy , or get a job to help us out financially but she didn’t she just stayed home and be sad. She continued saying things like ‘my life is over’ and ‘I have nothing to live for’
After university I got a job, things started going well for me…but I still carried this ultimate darkness with me wherever I went….hoping that I wouldn’t have to live for very much longer. The situation deteriorated with my mother.
I moved back home at this point, but I quickly began feeling stifled just like her. I wanted to get out of the situation. . She depended on me for everything as my dad was ill at this point (he had some mild stroke or something and stopped working in his early 50’s….i wanted to knock some sense into him as all he claimed to have was some minor memory loss..he is completely fine now)
At the age of 27 I left our family home to go abroad. I was at the point that I couldn’t take any more. I should have been dating but I felt that I couldn’t let anyone into the equation until I knew that our family life was sorted out. I felt as if I went abroad, I could get settled and then I could send for my mother….just so that she could see and experience new things (we come from a small island and it is a big deal to go abroad!). She didn’t want me to go but she didn’t stand in my way. She was sad that I was going (and fainted at the airport!) but I think she realized that I needed to make a few changes.
I went away and a month later, my mother suffered a massive heart attack at the age of 55. This surprised me as I talked to her the day before and she was fine….she seemed chatty and talked a lot….there was something different in her voice, almost like she had come to terms with me leaving. I got a flight home the next day and went straight from the airport to the hospital where she was. She looked really young and even though she was uncomfortable, she was conscious and she told me when I got there that she is ‘really ill’ I told her to stop talking and save her strength. She was in intensive care but she seemed fine to me….I didn’t grasp the seriousness of the situation I suppose. We left her that night because we all needed to talk about if she needed a pacemaker etc…and how we were going to afford it. She was in good hands we thought as one of our best family friends was the nurse on duty that night. I was prepared to come back home to take care of her if I had to. I was really exhausted from the 9 hr flight and really needed to rest. Five minutes after I lay down, the phone rang and it was our nurse family friend calling to say that we should come to the hospital. When we got there my mother had already died. One of the orderlies there said that she kept calling out for me and thought that I was him.
My world fell apart….i was not expecting this….i went into involuntary shock….i started crying and couldn’t stop but I still felt like I wanted to scream out loud for all I was worth. Where I come from it was customary to have funerals quickly after someone dies . So she died on Monday morning shortly after midnight and the funeral was to be held on Wednesday. I went to make all the arrangements on Monday with the support of my mother’s brothers. I couldn’t stop crying…I don’t know if you could even call it crying. It was like when a toddler frets about something and can do that for a while almost out of breath…it was like that. It was quite funny indeed. There I was choosing a casket and fretting, having lunch and fretting, having a conversation and fretting. It was the first time in my life that I couldn’t control my bodily functions!
Any way I digress. After the funeral I went back abroad and I’ve been here ever since. I took to grieving for my mother on my own without my other family members. I felt bad for my brother as he is 8 years younger than me….but I wanted to be alone.
My life has been filled with ups and downs since then but the one thing that has changed fundamentally is that I no longer feel like dying everyday! I still have the odd day that I feel like I want my life to end but no where near to what I was before.
I’m 35 now, married to a wonderful woman and we’re expecting our first baby this year.
I miss my mother dearly….its been 7 years since she died. I wish she could be here to share this with us. At times I just want to talk to her.
The saddest thing in my life is that my mother didn’t live to enjoy life. I sometimes wish I could go back in time to her childhood and fine tune whatever made her so unhappy…to make her happy. I know that would probably mean that I wouldn’t be here today but so what (back to the future comes to mind!)
The struggle continues but I’m doing ok.
Tags: mother
