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MY DEAREST MIMMI

Oppdatert: 1. jul. 2023

12th July 2022



From the night mom, dad, Magnus, Tinius and I got the phone call from uncle (my moms brother.)


*Dad´s phone rings*


He pics it up and everyone immediately goes quiet around the dinner table because everyone is catching up that something has happened.


*Mom is recognizing it´s her brother´s voice speaking.*


I know my mom like the back of my hand, and even from the side - I could tell she was about to cry.


"Oh shit." I thought. This is bad. Real bad.


*Dad nods to mom*


And just like that, she turned her face slightly and I could see tears rolling down.


*Dad hangs up the phone with uncle and grabs my moms hand*


And sights out,


"Mimmi is dead."


I burst into tears.



I sat in my bed in the room, after dinner - at the gorgeous, perfect, incredible cruise vacation that I had spent the last year dreaming of - and I just cried.


I cried because I felt relief Mimmi was no longer in pain. I cried because I was exhausted from all the worrying mom and uncle had been carrying over Mimmi for the last year. But I mainly cried because Mimmi .. I was so fuckings sad.


Right now...it hurts.


And so here I am writing at 2 am while wearing your blue dress you wore to mom & dad´s wedding in Italy, just wishing I could start my life all over again.


But this is life. This is just the beauty and sadness of it all. That we can´t get these moments back and that losing our loved ones is sadly a part of the deal called "life" but geeze, this is rough.


I have to remember to just breathe.


In mid-November, while you were in the hospital after you got Covid, you had difficulty with breathing. You had already gotten a little delirious before that, probably due to being cooped up in the hospital for three weeks, but the Covid made it a lot harder for you to communicate. Mom had made it clear to me that you were not doing well during my stay in Barcelona.


The doctors had told us that you were not going to improve and that you were most likely not going to make it. When mom added that during the phone conversation I immediately pushed it to the back of my mind because I didn´t want to think of a time that you wouldn´t be here.


When I came home from Barcelona for Christmas, the first thing I did was visiting you. I am so grateful for that day, even though it haunts me daily. Mom had told me that you weren´t quite yourself but I wasn´t prepared when I walked into the room. You were sitting in the hospital bed, but you didn´t look like my Mimmi. Immediately I had to hold back tears and I was suddenly burning up. I took off my coat but still I was sweating. I had to put my hair up because it had begun to stick to my neck. Then you looked at me. You just stared at me. We didn´t speak much, we just looked at each other.


Occasionally, you would comment on something going on the tv or you would beg me to get you out of there, that you were going to go crazy if you stayed there.


At one point, you leaned in closer to me and whispered into my ear,


"You are so beautiful. So beautiful."


And I smiled and held back tears. I told you,


"It runs in the family, look at you." To which you replied back,


"Not anymore darling, I´m ugly now."


Hearing you say that broke my heart in two.


Desperately, I felt the need to show you how I see you through my eyes.


It was just three years ago that you and I were in Greece together on vacation. Us two in paradise? Pretty magical to say the least. But there´s this one day at the beach that really struck a chord for me, where you read to me the following of the book you were reading,


*I opened the notes app on my phone and started quoting it to you*


"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room."Does it mean having things that Buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"


"Real isn´t how you are made," said the Horse. "It´s a thing that happens to you. When a heart loves you for a long, long time, not just like you to be with, but REALLY loves you, then you become real."


"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.


"Sometimes," said the Horse, for he was always truthful. "But when you are real you don´t mind being hurt."


"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"


"It doesn´t happen all at once," said the Horse."You become. It takes a long time. Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things dont matter at all, because once you are real you can´t be ugly, except to people who dont understand."



You grabbed my hand and squeezed it three times and I did my best to smile and not cry. We had a moment. Until it was time for me to go. As I stood up you grabbed the bottom of my shirt and begged me not to go.


You said,


"Come back to me real fast because the moment you walk out that door I miss you."


I bent down and kissed you on both your cheeks. I dont know if you heard me but I said,


"I love you."


I cleaned up my eyes and as I headed for the door, you said,


"You are so important to me, Nosen."


Of course, my tears started to show again and I went back and gave you one more hug. I told you that you were important to me too.


You´ll never know how important you are to me.



Mimmi.

You are a dream, you really are. It´s hard to describe what you mean to me, so just know, you mean everything to me. You are so loved. So real. And the strong, beautiful woman I know. You´re who I´ve always wanted to be like when I grow up.


forever yours,


Nosen.




July 16th 6:43 PM


You know that story about the angel and the devil sitting on your shoulders? The two that live with us.


The devil is evil. Anger. Jealously. Doubt. Sorrow. Ego. The angel is good. It is joy, peace, love, empathy and compassion. The question of which of them wins, depends on which of them you feed.


That simple story has comforted me many times.


"Listen to the angel. Listen to the angel. Focus on the good."


It´s great advice that reminds us that we are in control of our own thoughts, and our thoughts shape our own reality.


But can I be honest? Right now, my devil is fucking staaaaarving. And I´m just flat out exhausted from ignoring him.


Ignoring him is a full time job. The part of me that wants to be sad and doubtful and insecure.


So, I just give up. For today. I´ll start over tomorrow.


But for today, I´m going to nourish that bitter, resentful, envious, greedy devil. And even worse, I´m going to write about it on the internet.


I am just so sick of pretending to be okay. This isn´t Instagram. I don´t need to make it cute.


And if me being painfully honest about how deep in my sorrow I am makes you uncomfortable, I uh, I totally unders-WELL TRY BEING ME OKAY?!??!?


7:29 PM The Help button



I wish people would stop saying, "let me know if there is anything I can do to help."


(I warned you this was going to be bad.)


I say it too, but do we actually mean it? Or do we just throw it in when someone is going through a hard time and we don’t know how to end the conversation?


The intention is great, and we probably do mean it, in the moment. But at this point, instead of a,


"let me know if there is anything I can do to help"


type of message,


I´d rather get a "hey, during this period of hardship you are experiencing, I am willing to provide one meal or one nice text checking in on u in a few weeks, lmk which one you want" type of message.


Shoot me straight, you know? Keep some healthy expectations.


The problem with "let me know if there is anything I can do to help" (besides raising my hopes to the moon) is that...


when I´m hurt, feeling pain or in deep sorrow...


I. Am. Incapable. Of. Asking. For. Help.


When the message spread that Mimmi had passed away, I was surrounded by love. It was nice, especially after such a tough time. My closest friends showed up. My extended family took up the entire living room. Girls that would talk shit about me in high school were now dmíng me with condolences, asking for prayers on my behalf. People showed up for me.


And in a twisted way, their worry and concern for my wellbeing brought a sweeping relief that people actually cared about me.


Back in December, the nurses and doctors, they all told mom and uncle with nervous smiles that Mimmi was the "talk" of the hospital, and I took that as,


"She should totally be dead right now."


I just nodded and smiled right back.


I liked nurses. I even liked being in the hospital sometimes when I came to visit Mimmi.


I liked being able to ask for help.


Did you know they have an actual "help" button? Seriously. They have a remote with a button that you can press at any hour, day or night, and in seconds someone will be at your bed ready to meet your needs.


I fantasize about that shit.


But eventually, it was time to go home for Mimmi as she got better. But they knew she didn´t have much time left. The nurses sent Mimmi off with more nervous smiles.


I took that as,


"you´re totally going to be in deep sorrow over Mimmi real soon."


...now I totally was.


But it took some time for me to realize it.


I held it together for so long. I had to. I had no choice. I was still on vacation when it happened. I didn´t have time to process...I had to hold it together. I had to hustle. I had to get back on my feet.


So I did. And I was praised for it. I was celebrated for how strong I was. Applauded for "how I handled" my "situation."


But a week later, when I came home from Ibiza, I finally broke...when the numbing wore off and everything finally hit me, I was alone.


Because the cold hearted truth, is that people only give you a short window of time to be down, before they have to move on with their own lives.


That homemade meal your neighbor promised? That "just checking in" text you can expect from at least one person? Those babies expire!


It´s easier to drop a bouquet of roses off than it is to come over and hold someone while they cry. In the same way as it´s easier to refer a therapist or suggest a new antidepressant than it is to genuinely ask someone how they´re doing and be prepared for the response.


I get it.


I just wish that was the stuff they would have put in my food at the cruise.


Because if I knew then, what I know now, I wouldn´t have nodded and smiled when people said,


"let me know if there is anything I can do to help."


I would have cut them off mid sentence saying,


"I do need help. But now now. Not only when it´s bad enough to have to cancel the rest of the vacation to go home earlier. Not only when the message gets out. I need people in a couple of weeks when it all comes crashing down on me. I don’t need meals, flowers or nice texts. Actually, I dont think I even need help at all. I just need people. I just need someone. I just need you."


And if I knew from the start what I know now, I would have told myself that I am not weak for desiring support.


Like the story goes, my days expired, and for the most part, people stopped asking if there was anything they could do to help me. In a way, I was relieved. I could lower my sky high hopes and settle into reality.


The reality that people, simply, have their own shit to worry about.


But I really just wish those people who said they would be there for me, would stop calling me strong.


How would you know?


9:19 PM

Yesterdays



I love mornings now. I didn´t before. Before, meaning, the first 21 years of my life. The night was mine. But now, I find those hours from 5-7 am. I get up before the sun and I sit in the quiet and I attempt to pull myself together.


I like it better this way. Days are hard. Nights are numb. But my mornings? Golden.


I think part of it, is the relief I feel upon realizing that the previous day is over. A clean state. A reset. A do over. One day closer to those "good things" that have supposedly been "coming" for days..a week now. Soon though, right?


Because when 5pm comes around, and things begin to settle...I get lost in my own head. Autopilot, on. Once the to do list has been crossed off, I am unable to motivate myself any further. I am tapped out.


And the part of me that used to to love unwinding after a long day with a bath, a book or 90 days fiance...that part of me is tapped out too. So I just sit. In the nothingness. Stuck in my own head.


Every 5 minutes, I´ll instinctually grab my phone to try and feel something. But I soon remember that I´d rather feel nothing than the self loathing that comes from a sorrow scroll. So I just sit. In the nothingness.


"Just three more hours until you can justify going to bed for the night" I tell myself to pass the time.


And then, the time passes, the three hours of nothingness ends, and I go to bed for night.


Ahhh. More nothingness.


No more late night talks with the moon. No more reading until 3 am. The "night" has now transitioned into a "break from reality."


And yeah...I know how depressing that sounds. I tried to warn you!


But even still, after the painfully numb, nothing...I wake up each day.


And I sigh in relief.


Victorious over yesterday.


I love yesterdays for that.


I love how I never have to do them again.


9:49 PM



My inner thoughts are battling over how I should end this post. It´s just SO like me to want to end this on a positive note. My angel on my left shoulder wants me to let you all know that I fully, whole heartedly believe I am with time getting better, and not to worry. But my devil sitting on my right shoulder wants me to drive home the fact that needing to put on a positive front to make people comfortable is what got us here in the first place.


I guess they both eat tonight.


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THE SMALLEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED

He was charming, kind, handsome, Smart, caring, independent, Close with his mom, bestfriend with his sister, a mothers picture perfect son in law. "The ultimate dream boyfriend." He was everything. I

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