When you meet me in person, the first thing you’ll notice is my beautiful smile. Behind my smile I hide deep scars and a lot of pain. I’ve learned how to repress my emotions and feelings by smiling and hiding pain since my childhood years. In addition, I’ve also learned that pain is temporary depending how small or big my wounds and scars are.
Whenever I feel PAIN, I feel hurt. You will always see me smiling and laughing but you will never see me crying no matter what type of pain I’m experiencing. The only way you will ever see me hurt, sad, and in deep pain is when my mind is in “shock” and I no longer have control of my tears. At this moment, you will want to hug me and I will push you away or try to walk away. In case if you do manage to hug and allow me to hear your heart; I will yell with my lungs and cry to the world why my heart feels a sharp electrical pain. At this stage, my wall made of bricks is unsealed and broken because I’m truly hurting.
I can handle any type of pain, hide my sadness, and heal my wounded soul. Recently, I just found out there is one type of pain I cannot handle. I feel pain when a person related to my blood or a person who I love dearly suddenly dies. I miss this person so much. He is the first to die and it hurts to think about him.
He is my father. He died at age 56, last month. He survived three strokes. The fourth stroke killed him and left me heartbroken. Whenever I hear strangers “whistle,” I get a minor electrical sharp pain in my heart. The sound of whistle reminds me of father. He used to whistle so beautiful while painting or doing mechanic work. That was his favorite hobby to “whistle.”
Before his death, I remember father calling me every two or three months to check up on me. I know he did not want to miss out on my birthday and would have called to say “happy birthday.” I cried a lot on my birthday because I wished father was still alive to give me one last final call and say “happy birthday mi belleza (my beauty).” Father knew I was always beautiful.
I received a call three weeks ago while completing my cardio at the gym. His mother called me and told me to sit down. She told me father died alone. I felt sad and did not cry. Grandma notice I got quiet on the phone. But when she told me he was already buried, that gave me a deep shock and that’s when I started to cry. I cried running out the gym and drove myself home shaking nervously.
I would have appreciated more had his family members had the heart to call or give me an opportunity to attend his burial and say my last goodbyes. I still feel anger and pain. Mostly pain but I am a strong person and I know my broken heart will heal but it will take time. I’m starting today because I want to heal faster. How? I’m sharing both the good and bad stories about my father. Someone special recently told me that father died so young and left a beautiful daughter in this world. Those words brought me tears and helped me realize that it’s okay to cry or talk about pain. Now that father is gone, I’m going to stop repressing my feelings and live a happy life. Live the life I always wanted to live. True happiness and not hide my painful feelings.
Sharing my experiences and stories allows me to heal and I hope you can be part of my life too by sharing your pain either with me or someone you trust. Sharing is caring but sharing can also alleviate the pain you’re experiencing. Let’s live a happy and a prosperous life.