Thursday, 14 August 2008

Like the deserts miss the rain

After we got back home from our crazy and fun night out, I was suddenly stroken by a weird anxiety, for appearently no reason at all.

I went to my bedroom, sat on the bed and my mind was as blank as it could be. Attempting to distract myself a little bit from that weird feeling that was taking me over, I started putting my things in order and cleaning my room till the last hair string was off the floor. It didn`t really work, and I was still feeling that weird thing. Around 4am I decided to take a bath, to try and relax a bit.

As soon as I sat on the tub and actually started the bath, I started crying, compulsevely: I realised I`d never hear the voice of my mom ever again, calling or waking me up at 10 past 1am (the time I was born), to wish me happy birthday on every august 12th, like she always did as far as my memory goes. And it hurts so much and deep, like a wound, every time this comes to my mind again.

Tones of memories of my mom were coming back to me during the bath, one after the other, and I was feeling completely devastated. Of all of them, this one made me stop crying:
Last time I spoke to my mom before she died was when I was here, in Belgrade - just a day before my return to Rio. I was as crushed as somebody could be about leaving Belgrade, and she was comforting me, telling me that maybe I should postpone my ticket and stay longer, if I felt like doing so. I remember telling her that I`d rather go back then and save what was left of my money to return as soon as possible. She agreed it was a better idea and said that she was really happy that I enjoyed here so much. That was when I told her that someday I would show her the city myself, and take her to my favourite place ever, Kalemegdan. She got really all happy and excited with the idea of coming to Serbia someday soon, and seeing the Danube, the river that she always wanted to see and to put her feet in :)

So, I ran to finish the bath and got dressed as fast as I could. Took with me the small can with what was left of her ashes and headed, walking, to the bank of the Danube, where I left on the river a hand of her ashes. Right afterwards I went to the highest spot of Kalemegdan that I could reach, where I threw away another hand of the ashes. Then I just sat there and stayed, quiet and alone, crying what I should have cryied 7 months ago - but I suppressed, instead - when everything happened.

Crying so hard always makes me sleepy - and I fell asleep on the grass, watching this old man working out when the sun was just coming out.

I woke up, around 9, when the fortress was starting to get crowded. It was time for me to go back home, as Valerie and Julien were to wake up soon - and they could get worried if they didn`t find me there.

Walking back to my place and feeling the morning wind made me feel better again, like if the pain was medicated. Even if just for a while.


eu mesmo said...

emocionante. E voce escreve muito bem em ingles!
Eh importante exorcisar as dores, ainda mais de uma forma bonita e livre.
Uma unica vez eu senti uma "solidao absoluta", e foi fora do Brasil depois de 2 meses. Me toquei que tava tao longe das minhas raizes, num lugar onde tinha sequer uma pessoa que falasse a minha lingua, e isso me fez sentir uma tristeza diferente, um "banzo", um desamparo. Imagino que eh uma emocao diferente da que voce experimentou, mas esse texto me lembrou bem essa experiencia.

Maria said...

Brigado Lucio :)
Pois eh, e eu estava mesmo precisando exorcizar tudo isso, jah que eu meio que suprimi muita coisa quando tudo aconteceu. E eu acho que vai ser algo que eu vou ter que exorcizar a vida toda sabe? Nao eh o tipo de coisa que "passa", eu acho...
Pelo que voce escreveu, sao sentimentos bem diferentes sim, com a sensacao comum do desamparo. E engracado isso - eu sou uma pessoa que lido muito bem com essa coisa de estar longe do Brasil por muito tempo, ou mesmo dos amigos. Acho que eh porque em parte eu sempre, desde que consigo me lembrar, tive vontade de sair e morar fora um dia...

pedreco said...

Acho que eu já disse tudo que podia dizer. Só registro aqui, no próprio post, que ele foi o mais tocante e o mais intimamente próximo que já li - em qualquer lugar.

Chorei um choro que fez bem.

Maria said...

Que bom que te fez bem de alguma forma ler o post. Eu estava justamente preocupada que fosse deixar as pessoas pra baixo...

Nos e essa coisa "mae com danubio" que a gente tem... :)

Adam said...

Hey Maria,

That's a really touching story. I'm sorry for your loss but I'm very glad that your mother is now part of the Danube that she wanted to see so much.

Take care,

Maria said...

Hey, thanks Adam :)