on Berko high street i thought i saw her standing waiting to cross upper Kings Road, now i am so up set... i am sure it probably wasn't her... but....
so now i am not so good, every day i am stilling having *these times.....* and still many times a day....
yesterday i came across something i wanted to keep, and found a folder in my docs, headed *things for when i die*, strange isn't it that i had thought about me dieing and not my Mom!
below is a poem i put in this folder, i don't know when, years ago... and this is a wonderful painting i have just come across by Mark Shasha. in Mom's last days one of the positive affirmations i gave her was of a house, beautiful gardens around, close by a lake, with a veranda running round, a couple of rocking chairs and a cat, i told her to wait there for me!
Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room,
I am I and you are you;
Whatever we were to each other, That we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used,
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we shared together.
Let my name ever be the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant,
It is the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well.