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Buddha Or Big Hot Mess

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,


  1. Karen says:

    I so understand your feelings of loss, fear, grief and all those you can’t yet understand. I lost my Mother 10 years ago and only 5 days after she had a massive heart attack. There was little time to “say things I’d wanted to say.” She was gone so quickly. Even though it seems like yesterday, I still feel a close connection to her. I have lovely vivid dreams where she tells me she’s okay. And, oddly enough, even though she’s been gone so long, I have worked out many of the issues we had as Mother and Daughter since her passing. I appreciate her more. I understand her more. And, I love her more. This kind of relationship never dies because much of who I am lives inside of me…and it’s there because she loved me so much. Much love to YOU, my friend.

    • Robyn says:

      Thanks so much Karen. I think you said it really well – much of who I am, who we all are, is because of the people who’ve loved us so much and the people we’ve loved. I’m profoundly grateful for that.

  2. Carol says:

    I lost both my parents seven months apart. Both on hospice. I was sole caregiver for my father who died in my home. He was bed-ridden for six months after mom died. I summoned my Buddha nature and loved them and cared for them both. I cried for three months straight after dad died. You have to walk through the fire in order to heal. It’s so important to grieve and cleanse. Death is the beginning of the next voyage… not an end.

    • Robyn says:

      Carol I’m with you. There is something about walking through the fire–not going around it or under it or over it but through it–that changes everything.

  3. Lynn says:

    Robyn, prayers and positivity go out to you and your Mom! Losing a loved one is very difficult – however, your gratitude and focus on the love that you have experienced will carry you through. Hugs to you!

    • Robyn says:

      Thanks so much Lynn. I think what I’m finding most amazing is how much loving support is available, right here and now, for the asking. Thank you.

  4. Beth Riordan says:


    My thoughts and prayers are with you. I lost my Dad 12 years ago and still feel close to him. I often think of him and ask him to guide me with decisions I need to make for the family. It’s amazing how memories can be blessing for a lifetime.


    • Robyn says:

      Thanks Beth. I feel really really grateful that I have the opportunity to go through this time with her a bit and that sometimes we can still play with memories together.

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