Mom
--Mom
--
I love you. That's something I'm glad we always said to each other. Even though your every word and action demonstrated how you felt, it was good to hear it.
You were always there when I needed you. No matter what I needed, you were there with a supportive shoulder, an encouraging word, a listening ear. Because of you, I gained the confidence to do the things important to me, the courage to find a way, and whenever I forgot those gifts, you were there to remind me of them, either by words or by example.
So
much of who I am, the qualities and lessons and experiences that
have given me strength, confidence, faith, hope, and so much more
that I cannot begin to describe, so much of that is because of
you. Because of you, I believe in miracles, that out of countless
generations, out of the chaos and chance of heredity and happenstance,
you were born. That you had a life that made you the woman you
were. Vibrant, witty, intelligent, funny, strong, understanding...
I could fill volumes telling of your virtues, your strengths,
and how much of an inspiration to me you were.
I
know now that you never made it to your last birthday. That you
never heard with your own ears when we wished you a happy birthday.
But I believe that you were listening. I know that you were with
us each when we found out that your span on this mortal plane
had ended. I believe that in the coming months and years, when
the fact of your absence hits me like a blow to my chest, at moments
I always believed that you would share with me, you will be with
me in every way you now can. You'll never hold the grandchildren
I always wanted to give you, and I know that one day I will. You
won't be there at the wedding I will one day have. You won't be
able to tell the woman, whoever she is, that I will share my life
with embarassing stories about me. But you'll be there, giving
us your blessing, watching over us every step of the way.
It's
still so hard to believe the fact of your death. I remember that
when I heard, I started crying, and I don't think I really stopped.
There's just been pauses between the tears. And, in knowing this,
I also know that the only thing you would have said or done would
be to encourage me to explore and express how I feel. And right
now... I feel shock. Numbness. Grief. Anger. This is only going
to get worse, much worse, before it ever gets better. But you'll
be there for us.
I
know how much you loved angels. I believe that there is a person,
an entity, who comes at the end, an angel -- a true angel -- of
Death who took your hand, who was kind and sweet and honest and
understanding, and who helped you make sense of something that
I may never make sense of. I also know how much you loved butterflies,
and I believe that there is a wonderful metaphor there for what
death really is: a transformation, a change, into something beautiful
and magnificent. That it came at its proper time, as hard as that
is going to be to accept. I believe that you will be there for
us when we need you, that you will carry us when we need you.
That when I need to feel your arms around me, when I need to hear
the sound of your laughter, the sound of your voice, I will feel
it in my memory, as strong as you were in life. And that as the
fact of your death becomes more and more real, that it will be
a thousand thousand little losses and not one great loss, I will
keep you alive in memory, as my life... our lives... move forward.
Goodbye, my mother. Because of you, I know the truth, that, as I once heard it said, "Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of all children." Goodbye, my mother. Say hello to eternity for me. I love you.
Sean
