Mom, I’m sure you were around after your death. Did you hear me talking with Dad? I struggled so much in my own pain that it was hard to deal with his. He was looking to get remarried less then a year later and I was trying to rebuild. As I sit here now I wonder about you then. Were you hoping he would move on and find love again? Did that feel ok to you? It didn’t feel good to me at the time. I remember telling him that he could replace a wife but I could not replace a mother. We cried in your bedroom many times. It was in those sessions of our despair that we formed a bond, dad and I. Your death made us pool together and talk like we have never done before.
Mom. When I look back at your illness when I was between 16-18 yrs old, I just didn’t know how to help you. I assume now you wanted me to be nurturing and compassionate, but I didn’t do what was not asked. You didn’t seem to want me around. You were sick and throwing up. I didn’t know what to do for you. I really didn’t know what to do. I felt so extremely lost. I was 16 Mom. I was not equipped to help you. It seemed that when this illness showed up it exposed our family for every weakness: Communication, being honest and asking for what you want. We let you down, but we didn’t know. We only did what we did at our level of awareness.
I think if you had been ill now I’d be so different, but then I didn’t get on this path without having gone through the misery of losing you. I don’t know where we ended exactly. If I rewind to the time before you found out you had cancer, then I’d be the same age as my oldest daughter. Is that where we start again? That doesn’t feel right either. So, how do we rebuild our relationship? Do we just forgive and forget our parts in what happened? I wasn’t the rescue-daughter that you needed? Your hostility to me on your death bed was just your human self high on morphine releasing your pushed down feelings toward me? I get it. It isn’t meant to be discussed anymore. I know you understand your human limitations now, and I see how it affected those around you. And I am growing in my awareness about the ego and the spirit. I know had I had time to get a little older I would have done a better job of taking care of you. I help Dad with support. I just called him last night to make sure he knew I was thinking of him. I’d do the same for you. I’m a better person and have a more solid understanding. Did it take your death to find out? Maybe.
Let’s start again Mom. Can I picture us having coffee together? I’d be back at the old house at your table. What would we say? Do I just carry on from this point? You know what I’ve been up to, but I don’t know where you are at. Carmel Baird says heaven is just outside of our aura. I’ll take that. I can’t see you but you still hold your personality. I like that. Maybe I’d of been able to hold my own against you. You are more string-willed then me.
I miss you mom. I have been on the most interesting journey. I have created the most joyous circle of friends. I am still working on finding more about me. I wonder all the time about your life and friendships. My perspective of you is still so child like. The time has been so long. I have forgotten your voice. I can picture you, but even that isn’t clear. It has been a long time – 22 years. Most of the ladies in the community that remember you always tells me that you were funny and they enjoyed your company. Your friends are fiercely loyal to you. I’ve heard stories of you helping your neighbours when they needed you. I’ve also heard you were confrontational, but was also one to make up. Most of all, I remember that you were someone that felt stuck at times. I think you had enjoyed the farm and having a family. But, I remember sensing a need to explore outside of the home. At my age now, which may have been kind of the time that could have started for you, I can understand that you may have wanted to break free of the years of being a stay at home mom and farmer. You sacrificed and worked so hard. Dad always said you were the hardest working woman he ever knew. You loved your farm animals. You always felt hard work was the be-all for best quality in a person.
So, here we are sitting and sipping on coffee and possibly some of that plum pie you’d make in the huge pan(I miss that). But, we are sitting. You have your feet up on the table pedestal legs while sitting on your side of the table. I’ll sit in Dad’s spot. Light is streaming in from the sun. Ahhhhhh.
You know the house you and Dad built is gone now. It was sad for me. I went and looked around but nothing felt real about that place because all it had left was piles of rubble and a shell of a house that was no longer a home. The bird that flew around and got into my photos made me think of you. Were you there that day? Yes. Thank you for the birds by the way. I get the feeling that it is you a lot of the times. My favourite is the one that kept jumping and making noise on the roof of our house over the bedroom. It was like clockwork every morning until my husband threatened to shoot. That bird didn’t come back but I will never forget it because that seemed to be the start of seeing the birds showing me their grace everyday. If it’s you then thank you. I look for them. I’ve called them back and the bird has come back. It gives me hope that you’ll come back to me too.
Thanks for being around. I love you.