November 30, 2014
My mom’s not doing so well. I’ve known for a while now that there isn’t much more time to let her know just how dear she is. To let her know that she’s often been the reason my eyes sparkle and my heart sings.
On some days I’m OK with it. With knowing that I can’t, wouldn’t, prolong this process that at times brings her great discomfort. On those days I feel connected with the world and supported and loved by friends and family. On those days I feel like a little Buddha handling it all with equanimity, grace, and a growing awareness of the impermanence of everything. I can appreciate that death is part of life and I can cherish what life is left. Those days are nice.
But there are the other days; the days I’m not ok with any of it. On some days I’m a big hot mess. On some days I’m about five and realize with exquisite clarity that I don’t know how to do this. Because I’ve never done it. And I’d probably prefer to skip it, because it’s hard to feel broken. It’s hard to look this one in the eye knowing there’s no skipping any part of it.
So what I want to say is that my heart goes out to you this morning if you’ve ever lost someone you love very much; if you’ve ever felt alone, or vulnerable or unsure of what to do next. I am with you. I am with you if your soul has been touched or shaped by another who made you feel not only important, but valuable and irreplaceable.
So mom, this one’s for you, the most valuable and irreplaceable human being to grace my life.
All my love,