If you were previous readers of this blog, you may remember the other Olivia, my mother, Olivia Sr. She was the one who introduced me to makeup from day one of my life. She was my best friend and makeup partner in crime. We would go makeup shopping together, analyze, and explore all the different brands. It was just one of the best moments and memories for both of us. Then, she left me. She died last year.
My mom and I were very close. We talked about everything and argued about everything, as many mothers and daughters would to establish their differences in personality. However, one of the things we talked and agreed about was the afterlife. It was very normal for us to speculate about it. (Note: I am not trying to convince people of it. You can believe what you want.) My grandmother often talked about it too, and I learned through stories, so did my great grandmother. When my mother was a child, she told her she would come back as a vengeful ghost to smite everyone who did her wrong!
These conversations helped me get through my grief, and it appeared to ease my mother's fear and anger of death. By no means was it easier to get over it for me. I cried so deeply the first three months that I thought my heart would pop out of my chest, and I would be holding it in my hand instead.
Those three months trailed into the holidays. I chose to stay away from everyone until the new year because I knew they wouldn't be comfortable. What could they do? They couldn't bring her back like some episode in Supernatural. Besides, I didn't want to talk to anyone and pretend I was having a great holiday. I wasn't wallowing either. I just allowed myself to grieve as long as I could and then I got tired of it. Seriously, I did.
Of course, I had help and advice from many on how to deal with my mom's death. That only took me so far. It was really me that had to deal with death because my mom had it easy now. I had to allow myself to keep going. I knew it took one day at a time. I occupied myself with various things but at the same time, there was something leftover. Something that didn't make me whole mentally.
Little by little, the last memories of my mother would return. My mother had hospice care in the last few weeks of her life, and I had to administer the painkillers every four hours to allow her a painless transition. The lack of sleep and the loss of apetite for me, shrunk my brain to the point where my memories were hazy.
I was triggered by a negative event. I began to remember the conversations and feelings. With this trigger, I also found out, even if you have friends that support you, they won't support you in the same way a mother or any loving family member will or does.
One of the last things my mom said to me while holding my hand, "I can't play with makeup anymore." When she said that I just burst into tears! She held my hand so tightly that I thought she would break it. She still had a strong grip! Once I found my voice through the tears, I told her, "Don't worry, you can play all you want with any makeup on the other side, and you won't have to spend ANY money!" We laughed through our tears.
That warmth and support from that moment just emanated like a swan covering its cygnets. I would never have it again! I would never find it again because I was no longer a daughter. Death hacked my soul and stole my identity!
We all grieve when a loved one dies, but many don't tell you that you will lose your identity. It is that identity or position that allowed you to move in life. It actually guided you in ways you never thought it could.
I was my mother's daughter. I was allowed to challenge my boundaries, understanding they would always take me back into that position even when I felt the world outside did me wrong. I knew where I stood.
I think this is what happens even if your loved one is a pet. You are its human, you know what your boundaries are, then one day, POOF! You no longer will feed that pet or get cuddles. Your boundaries are skewed and your identity is gone.
This was an epiphany for me. All I could think about were the moments of fun my mom and I had with makeup. Unfortunately, when she died, I couldn't bear to look or keep some her items in her collection, and due to selfishness, I couldn't give them away. I didn't want to spread my memories. I ended up throwing them away. I think I was trying to throw away pain.
I also realized I had no outlet for what I really enjoyed which was beauty. My friends in the real world could care less about it. My mother no longer existed with me physically, but I had a few signs which I didn't understand, then. Now, I think she was saying to blog again just for the heck of it. Or maybe, SHE has things to say!
So, this is why I am blogging again. I don't know how long it will last. As I mentioned in my first post, I am not monetizing. If I do end up monetizing, it will end up on a platform which will monetize off of me. All I am trying to do now is to redefine my identity with a familiar road. And, that road happens to be beauty and this blog.
I hope my little audience will enjoy this resurrection. That is all I want: A little corner of beauty!!!
Olivia
