You may ask, how can death be beautiful? A Beautiful Death? Then read on... This is a letter to my mum, now taken away by the angels above.
Angel was her name, and Angelic was her way of living an inspirational life for all who knew her. The lady was born with beauty, elegance and class. Although class may imply a certain Bourgeoisie, it has always been about being without judgment. That's all. Someone with class would never put another down, be arrogant, or in any way a snob. Not at all. In fact, all those useless, unkind attitudes come from lack of. Titles nor any amount of money could buy class.
One of the many attributes Angel possessed and taught us by simply being was being kind, compassionate, and loving towards all who crossed her path. An avant-garde woman who thought and behaved well ahead of her time. Throughout my life, I was flattered whenever someone commented on our resemblance. Most women in the room may not come across the same way as their children. It's a fact.
My Mama taught me to appreciate the beauty of life. Watching her be kind to every human and animal taught me how to see 'the best' throughout my path. It is so liberating to free oneself of all the unnecessary thoughts of anything bothering or hurting you. Let it go. Fuck it. Life ain't worth any of it.
However, there are two sides to a coin. After Angel's passing, I went through a challenging period of feeling pain, unappreciated, and hurt. It was like I had denied myself questioning or thinking of the moments of despair and disappointment by my mother, who always sat on a pedestal in my mind. 'Should I feel ungrateful and nasty if I see how things were?' Or is it time to face my demons and come out with how my relationship with my mum truly felt to me? Yes, I have a voice. That inner child must speak. I shall get back to that another time. This is a tribute to my mum, but I must mention this as nothing in life is perfect. There are ups and loads of downs, by the look of it. They are the lessons we are here to learn. So, let's get back to where we left off...
Oh, Mum, you left this world with a legacy of love, caring and warmth. This is what every person said at your memorial. The old electrician Ousta Heydar, who had been paying visits to your household from your father's time, told me, with tears pouring down his weathered skin onto his white moustache: "You know my Dear, people like your mother, her father, the great poet and humanitarian and your grandmother; the gentle soul that she was, leave their marks in this world."
Mum's lifetime friends agreed when they commented: "There was not a soul who passed Angel by without being touched by your mum. That you lived your life just the way it pleased you. Did everything you damn well wanted to."
Well, good on you, Mama.
"My love," Mama would tell me, "Let them say whatever they wish behind you; their judgment doesn't concern you."
When you so elegantly sat behind your Yamaha cream grand piano, with those eternally red-manicured delicate hands, and played those magical notes... how I miss the sound of your music, which caressed every soul.
Mama, as a child, I watched you put on your makeup... The brown eye shadow arched behind those almond-shaped eyelids, followed by the eyeliner so finely mastered along the lengthy eyelashes. A little blusher powdered on the lifted cheeks. All signed off with the original red lipstick painted on your naturally pouty lips. And dad would appear in his designer suit, looking super elegant, with a big smile across his sunny face. We kissed and hugged goodbye as you left for yet another soirée, at which time we were sent off to bed with our nanny. Just watching you leave was such pure delight. Like the fairytale Cinderella story you used to tell me as a child before going to sleep.
Aaaaah. La Belle Epoque de mon pays.
I have been so blessed with your love. If I judged you in any way, please forgive me, as I know you will. We do judge our parents at some stage in life. It's part of human nature. May that judgment be harmless either way.
For a woman who lived a life exactly as she pleased after a stroke, followed by a depression she managed to get over, she would say:
"The world has turned ugly. I've lived a wonderful life and did everything I wanted to, and now, taking all these pills and watching the news today, I've had enough. I want to sleep and not wake up one morning."
And what do you know? That is exactly how she left this world. In her home, surrounded by my siblings, in her bed, with a smile.
The irony of life, even after death here, is that my mum got buried next to my dad!
Mum divorced Dad twice and never remarried. She was too happy and independent afterwards, and they always stayed on friendly terms. But in private, Angel unintentionally would make an awkward remark about Papa. Oh well, that's understandable. However, about ten days before she departed, Mum called me out of the blue one morning, and it was like she was making a kind of confession.
She said: " You know something? I was quite spoilt by my wonderful father."
She went on rightfully praising Grandpa, whom everyone thought highly of, but then, there was me on the other side of the iPhone thinking ... 'well, that's quite a confession, I guess'. I smiled cheekily, but that wasn't it; there was more! So Mum continued:
"Your father was actually a good man!"
I gently laugh, thinking this sure is a first in a lifetime.
Could hear Mum smiling too as she went on:
"Yes, your dad was quite a catch! He was a good man if only I wasn't so spoiled. Our marriage could have worked well.
And now buried next to each other. Thank goodness Mum had a great sense of humour.
I remember putting the phone down and looking up at the sky. My Dear God, it was enlightening to feel you had totally, perhaps forgiven, or simply let go of any kind of stiff feeling towards Dad. I prayed this wouldn't be your last confession and that you would be there when I returned home to visit you.
But we have no control over what goes on in life. I flew home immediately after hearing the news and went straight to the burial. It was a beautiful spring day; the sun was out, very close loved ones arrived, and I got to feel you, Mama. When the fabric on your face was lifted, everyone took a breath in at the youthful appearance of your peacefully rested eyes, those perfect eyebrows and that smile of contentment. Wow. You're forever in my heart. Nothing will ever change that.
I believe everyone wishes to live a life of no regret, no guilt, lots of fun and laughter, music, beauty, certainly many amazing friends, and being loved. Only for it all to end independently of all: physically, mentally, and materialistically. To close one's eyes to the world in one go and fly. Literally, fly away.
Mama, you rest in peace now, knowing you were here to teach love and kindness. No judgment.
We will always be in touch. Till we meet again. You are and always will be adored.
Mama, You even made death look beautiful.
@halditanotes
