When mom disappeared (it feels like a disappearance more than someone ‘passing away’ or ‘moving on’), I didn’t cry in public. I just couldn’t, it was way too busy a time; people asking questions, consoling, demanding my attention.
Now, when I am finally at a safe distance from the event, those unshed tears are expressing themselves. And how.
I find myself crying before I fall asleep, while commuting, at innocuous events, on hearing someone’s voice, on seeing someone. I feel the pain of separation more intensely. My heart aches for her when I look at her photographs.
Like a fruit that has ripened and needs to be plucked, the tears now need to be shed. While I was trying to move on, my grief was waiting all along.