This is a guest post by Rosanna.
I sat the other day with a friend, talking about the loss of her son to a tragic end, around the same time I became a new mommy.
I couldn’t bear the thought of loosing such a gift. And although I know and have experienced so much loss in my life, why does it become so hard to say I’m sorry to another for their loss?
Why is death such a taboo topic? As a Social Worker, I am constantly trained on grief. Yet, although I work with a population that is constantly dying, even writing the word becomes hard at times.
While sitting with my friend, I was reminded of the time my mami and I had to deliver news to mi tía, that her daughter, my mom’s niece, mi prima hermana, was found dead in her apartment. For some reason the only contact that the police had was my mom’s number. My mami was called to identify the body. To this day, we have no idea how they had my mom’s contact, and not her own mother’s. We figure it was meant to be this way.
That night, after confirming it was my cousin, my mami had me accompany her to my tía’s door, in the middle of the night. Driving to her apartment and walking to her front door was probably the longest day of my life. Anyone knows that receiving a knock on the door in the middle of the night is never a good thing. To this day, I can feel the cold chill of an East Coast winter night. I can feel the silence drawing near as we approached the door and as she greeted us with confusion in her eyes.
As my mom uttered the words ‘sientate mija’ I felt like this was the part in the movie where the audience clenches while waiting for the jolt of screaming, and just like a reenactment of a Hollywood movie, she fell to the ground screaming, “Ay dios mio, No!!! Mi hija, no, señor no, no puede ser!”
She continued to cry out to God and my heart sunk as we tried to hold and comfort her, as she frantically gasped for air laying on to the ground. Even now, having to relive that moment has me holding my breath and brings tears to my eyes.
As a professional and a victim to loss I have learned that a physical death, and the loss of a relationship, can exude the same feelings of emptiness, anger and betrayal. I have come to learn that it is important to allow yourself to heal, cry and grieve the loss. It is then that the healing process begins.
Someone once told me that, just like a cut needs to scab in order to heal, so do the matters of our heart. Too often we do not allow the pain to scab, so that a new layer or a new chapter in our life is born.
I will never sit here and proclaim that it is easy, because if you would know the tragedies I have experienced you would be amazed I have not lost mi mente. My life is a love story full of grace. But instead of choosing to continue to pick at the scabs life has brought me (and re-open them each time), I choose to allow myself to cry, to hurt, be angry and tender.
It was in these moments that I discovered that just like a caterpillar goes through some ugly changes in due season, it soon becomes a beautiful butterfly…
Rosanna was born of Puerto Rican parents. She obtained her B.A.in Human Services/Cosmetology Certification and is a Social Worker & Makeup Artist based in Arizona. Her love for beauty and the community inspire her daily to fulfill her God given purpose. Her life’s passion is to help other’s realize their beauty, self-worth and motivate them to fullfill their dreams. Her work can be seen at www.photocrew.com/dollfaceink/portfolio or to stay in touch via facebook at www.facebook.com/dollfaceinkmakeup