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.
Marian
4 comments:
The open gash of missing her will get better, Marian, I can promise that. To grieve the loss of someone speaks to their virtue, and to our own.. but it has a job to do and then one day, it is done, and things really will seem far more bearable.
It's not just you who has had a major life change -- she has, too, and it's a sweet one, you know? Think of all she is seeing and doing, now. Take some peace from that for yourself. Maybe she is even speaking with JP II as I write this.. or hanging out with Elvis Presley.. or St. Peter or Little Theree..
I don't recall when it came but here's how I thought of my own mother's passing. I would never have to worry about her again -- no one can hurt her, insult her, jump her for her pocketbook.. no cancer or illness or even stubbed toe can ever again threaten her well-being. It's all life where she is now, all good life, all the time. All real life, all the time. She earned it, and I hope she will be praying me near her.
I love the poem you posted! I think it might be true.
((((prayers for you today))))
Thank you so much Carol, your words, as always mean so much to me.
and yes hopefully she has met up with Elvis! she went to see him in concerts in the states... maybe he is singing for her now...
and i hadnt thought about how she can never hurt again, have to watch for cars on the street, tripping up, or walking about with her purse in her hand and me telling her off about it!
thank you again, in time i will hear what your saying even better, through ears wide open not all muffled with grief like now. x
I know, my dear. For now, we can mostly only help pray you through all the rough patches, and there are many. In a way, it's very providential that you have to be dealing with cleaning from mold all through the house and all, right now. I am far gladder, though, that you've got a Franco and a Pippa every day to keep you company and keep you busy, too.
-well said Carol! Marian, everything you are doing is part of the healing process, so don't worry about doing things that apparently make you suffer. It's a very natural process, just go with the flow. And ps...I love both the poem and the painting!
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