Living with my imperfections in the dark only gave them power.  Now the freedom comes in waves like  the Ocean rushing to the shore and taking away the fears like grains of sand .

Now that you have gone I wonder …

Were you the counter part that allowed me to have patience ?

Now I expect the answers before I know the question .

Did the best parts of me exist because of you ? 

There had been an expectation in my heart that everyone would know my loss.  That by some miracle all of the dears in my life would feel the threads of love , of loss and simply know the hurt that I was feeling .  I lived on in the hope that I was not moving through the silent upheaval inside of my soul alone .

‘Coming into Being’ chalk pastel 18×24 2/2013 #48

I can still hear her voice , kindly yet firm , reminding me to be aware of my posture.

The initial pain , after she was gone , felt like a  sucker punch to the gut .  How did I not see it coming ?   I had , after all , been holding her hand  , listening to her accounts of visions in the night  and even changing her diapers .

Accepting my grief for what it was , without boundaries , was one lesson that needed learning . Later on came learning how to live  and welcome new beginnings. 

I looked at her wondering if  she needed anything.  She had been resting quietly though her eyes were wide open .  Over the years I had stopped noticing the sweet softness of her big , brown eyes.  She was my mother  after all  and I was accustomed to looking in her eyes for signs of approval , worry or love.

Here she was facing , experiencing  , her end of life.

I was caught up with the daily practicalities of her care.  It protected  me from my own fear of was still to come.  I had not been able to imagine a world with out her in it in spite of past my experiences  with the losses of loved ones.  And there she lay , quietly . I wondered what she was thinking more often than I asked .

Her lips began to quiver , her brow and  her eyes suddenly acquired the appearance of a frightened child .

She said to me ” I am scared “.

Stillness in Motion.

It was the birth of courage. It was the beginning of acceptance. It was stepping through a gateway onto a path of seeing beyond viels . Compassion was challenged and rose to the surface like winds parting clouds, allowing beams of sunshine to stream through.

Tending to the needs of my , suddenly, frail mother as she lay in the last bed she would ever use  woke up my soul. It reawakened my heart and brought back to life the preciousness of each moment in my sight. What would happen in an hour or tomorrow was anybody’s guess.

I give to her my thanks every evening before closing my eyes and drifting off into sleep. She gave me the opportunity to discover that courage can be quiet and gentle. It isn’t always bold and boisterous. Sitting at her bedside in the middle of the night , struggling to feel patience on top of exhaustion, I listened to her fears, her recitations of visions or dreams she had had. She was giving me a most precious gift. All that was required of me was to recieve it.

I give her my thanks for the Pilgrimage in Spain that I experienced with ‘ On foot in Spain ‘. Walking through one gateway leads to another and another and  onward we go.  A few days before  heading to Spain I began contemplating what my reasons  for doing the pilgrimage might be. I realized that I had no grand design in mind. To simply be in each step and to allow each moment to unfold in it’s own way , releasing it’s gifts. That was my goal. Once again all that was required of me was to receive . To listen and allow myself the joy of being present in each step was another precious gift.

The pilgrimage was as freeing as it was when I held my mother’s hand . In childhood it comforted her to hold my hand. keeping me safe , showing her love. As she went through the process of letting go of her life here on earth, I hoped that I could give her comfort by holding her hand and letting her feel my love in the warmth of our palms touching.