Sometimes the dragon you battle furiously with is yourself – when you come to that realization, it can be mindblowing. Slaying dragons is a difficult task in itself, but slaying a dragon of your own making is even more challenging. If you’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about then get comfortable while I tell you about my personal dragon.
We all know that death is inevitable, but when you lose someone – a loved one, a family member, or someone whose company you enjoy, you’re somehow stunned. You have always expected death but not now, not like this, not the death of this person. At some point, you find a way to deal with the pain of losing that person. When I lost my mom, I felt relieved that she had transitioned from the unhappy circumstances under which she lived. I imagined that she was finally free of earthly cares. I envisioned her blessed with youth once again. In my mind’s eye, thick curly hair tumbled down her back and she was running happily through a grassy meadow filled with wildflowers.
Where is the dignity?
That picture of a woman running happily through a beautiful meadow was the image I held in my mind until I actually saw her. When I finally saw my mother’s lifeless body lying on the cold metal table in the funeral parlor, that image immediately fled from my mind. She looked like a tiny broken doll tossed aside by a careless child. This was my mother? I knew it was her and I answered ‘yes’ to the question, but she was not that ragdoll that lay still on the cold metal.
In death her face was unblemished, she had lost the worry lines which were there when I last saw her. I imagined she would open her eyes and look at me but I sensed the emptiness behind her closed eyelids. Yet I felt her presence, almost as though she hovered with uncertainty, concerned about her modesty. I felt the same concern, where is the dignity I thought came with death? why did this ragdoll dressed in the hospital gown appear to be so exposed and vulnerable? I wanted to wrap her in a blanket.
My personal dragon
Leaving the too-cheerful young morticians to do their job, I returned to the waiting area and sat with my niece who had accompanied me. “Are you ok hon?” I asked belatedly wondering how she was coping. She looked at me wide-eyed, “yes I’m ok” she said unsteadily. I laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, she had lost her husband a few years ago. I imagined that looking at the cold body of her grandmother brought back painful memories. “Did you do this for Ezon?” I asked her. She shook her head “no I couldn’t do it” she whispered.
Now when I think of that moment I realize that offering to accompany me was my niece’s attempt to face her own dragon. She hadn’t been strong enough for her husband but she had now proven to herself that she could be! My personal dragon is an entirely different matter and as dragons go, not easy to slay. It’s my guilt, I’m guilty of not going above and beyond. At this point, nothing can dissuade me of the notion that I should have tried harder to give my mom whatever brings her some measure of joy and happiness.
Knowing is important
Some part of me has always known that my mom was not as resilient, and strong as she appeared to be. She was as smart as she was naive, and she was as capable as she was vulnerable. She was a sometimes frustrating package of complexities and I think she was rarely happy. The big fight I had with my sister when she decided that mom was at the stage where she needed to be placed in a Home was because of this. I knew mom would not be happy and I should have fought harder for her. This is why I felt relief when my mom departed an unhappy and miserable life.
In the three weeks since my mom died, I have experienced a series of traumatic events, sleepless nights, and countless moments of extreme anxiety to the point where I felt I needed professional help. After my first counseling session today, I feel a lot better because the one frustratingly elusive reason for my angst is suddenly crystal clear! Guilt! I feel guilty for not trying hard enough to help my mom be happy. I know it’s not rational but there it is! my personal dragon. Everyone has their own journey towards the acceptance of losing a loved one. Only you know the nature of your dragon and knowing is important. With time and counseling, I hope my personal dragon can eventually be slain, but just knowing its nature offers me some measure of comfort. Rest in peace mom.
Gloria E. Brusch of Georgetown, Guyana formerly of Bartica, passed away on Thursday, September 16th, 2021.Â
She was a Sgt. of the Guyana National Service, Police officer, and former Snr. Research & Planning Officer at Ministry of Home Affairs, former Personnel Manager of Blairmont Estate & Student Affairs Officer of the Guysuco Training Center. She was a former member of the congregation of the Cathedral of Immaculate Conception in Brickdam Georgetown and the Lady of Mount Hope Church in Meadow Bank. Gloria E. Brusch was the sister of Johanna Wong, and Joyce Evelyn both diseased, and is survived by her siblings Jerry Joseph and others of the Joseph family in Bartica.
She was a close relative of Claude Williams and others of the Williams family of Linden. She was the beloved mother of Penelope DeFreitas, Jacqueline, Gregory, Sharon, and the late Gail and Cedric Brusch Jnr. and aunt of Camille Hussien and other nieces, and nephews. She was the grandmother of Latoya Herbert and 13 other grandchildren and the great-grandmother of Mekhi Roberts and 3 others.
The family of the late Gloria E. Brusch expresses deep appreciation and sincere thanks for the outpouring of love and support during this time of bereavement.
The obituary was written by my niece Latoya Herbert
