Tomorrow will be three weeks since my Father called me one evening and told me “we lost her”. He was sobbing. Three weeks since I went back to my Mom’s room and found her body without life in it. That night her body was taken out of her house for the last time. Her Spirit left out of her bedroom, never to return. Much of her passing is a severe mercy and we, the family she departs from, are left to feel grief and sorrow and pain and so much else.
The burden of grief and sorrow has been getting less heavy everyday since she left. I think about her everyday, several times, but the time between thoughts of my mother and her journey get longer and longer. I have been in tasks letting my thoughts dissolve, doing my meditation practice in tasks. I mow the lawn, I dig in the soil, I pull weeds, I wash the dishes, I do the laundry. I let go of thought and try to feel the emotion as it rises. And rise it does. There is no shortage of emotion these days.
I feel fear. To this point in my life, I have always known where my Mom is. As a small child it is a survival necessity to know exactly where she is. I don’t think that need, that instinct ever totally fades away. I am disoriented now. For the first time in my life, I don’t know where she is. She is not here. She is not here in a different way than anyone can be ‘not here’. My sister said that people occupy psychic energy and when they die, the absence creates a vacuum. I think that’s about right. My mind does not know where she is but my heart does.
She is with me, a part of me. As I said in her service, “my blood was once her’s, my bones formed in her’s, I am of that woman…”. How strange, how mysterious. My daughter carries her too.
She is now with me, here. And she is here in a way that no one else can be ‘here‘. I dig in the soil of my garden and I can feel her there. I watched my young daughter take off all her clothes and run giggling across the lawn and I could feel her there.
She is nowhere to be found, but she is everywhere to be felt.