My Mom died on October 21. We sang and laughed her a sweet good-bye at the moments of her death. We celebrated her life at a beautiful funeral service that lifted our spirit as well as, I'm sure, hers. The aftermath is still coming…the realization…phone calls I can't make, Thanksgiving, Mother's Day, quiet walks. I am full of joy for her journey but my journey is seeming a little heavier and slower. Then I realized something this morning. I'm different now...not in a huge totally life changing way (or maybe so?) but in some calming big picture way. I have no doubt that a little part of Mom lives in me…not just her hands that I see when I brush my girls' hair and not just her red velvet cakes and apple pies that I make but an actual piece of her spirit resides here in this world with me…I feel it. We are all connected in spirit to God and each other so why should we believe that connection is dropped when someone's body dies? It doesn't. Then I started thinking. If her spirit is connected to me in some tiny thread of a way then my spirit is still connected with her. My spirit is part of her beautiful, light, freeing journey. I'm connected to the wonder that is called heaven or the afterlife or whatever. I'm linked to that wonder! I feel that! I love that. I will cherish that.
Thank you for everything I remember and everything I don't. I miss your eyes and your voice and your hands. I love you and I feel you loving me.