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.

It is the universe within a foot step. 

The magic and energy of the stars and planets,
The winds gently tickling your hair and cooling your face,
The sun warming away the early morning chill and the surprise of a refreshing rain shower, 

It is the joy and anguish of the human heart and soul.
Each step is the past within the present, the future , wide open.
The silence found inside becomes the comfort of a dear friend’s embrace.

The infinite possibilities of what can be given and created unfold in layers
 like a magical gateway, the doorway to spirit becomes visibly open

There is so much more,
I imagine spending the rest of my days, happily, trying to find the words
and colors to clearly share the beautiful power and grace of this walk.

As I travelled further and further away from the density of cities and suburbs a lightness entered and surrounded me.
The changing landscapes and cloud formations brought feelings of elevation and elation to my spirit.
All the worry over possessions was released and the joy of each moment was as far as my mind could wander.
It was, in some ways, like a return to home. In other ways it felt new and invigorating.

The grandness of the earth alongside the majesty of the sky brought imaginings of having wings. Life became limitless as I welcomed my spirit as the guiding force.

My heart was touched , over and over again, by the openness and kindness of the people I crossed paths with along the way.
At rest stops, gas stations and cafes strangers paused long enough to share pieces of their lives with me. These gifts included hopes for the future, heartache from loss and the renewals of faith. As I listened to each recounting , my own heart seemed to open deeper and wider.

This was connecting with my fellows. Simplicity, compassion, and humor without ego, without expectation. It was grace and I am grateful.

The miracle is here now, In each moment.  That awareness is, perhaps, the greatest gift that I received from being a witness and escort to my mother’s end of life process. I am grateful for every moment.

Lasting the four days in the hospital with my mother was, in some respects, an endurance test. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion and yet it was busy and full. There were visits from her friends, nurses coming and going and my attempts to gain information about my mother’s diagnosis.

At night the hospital activities surrendered to stillness with the occasional sounds of footsteps and the squeaky wheels of a cart being pushed along the corridor. That was when my mother’s worry peaked. As I lay on the lounge chair beside her bed, too exhausted to worry, I reached for any words that might bring her relief enough so that she would sleep.

Strangely, the relief came on the day that we received her diagnoses. I was sitting beside her, my stepfather was in a chair across from her bed when the team of Neurologists came in to her room. One of them wheeled in a monitor for displaying the scans of her brain. We listened.

It was brain cancer. It was large and growing exponentially. Treatment was not a realistic option. My mother took in the news with courage and grace. The harsh, unexpected diagnosis would have  stunned me more had I not been in such awe of witnessing my mother’s composure over hearing that she was embarking upon her end of life journey.

I looked at the doctor’s face as he spoke, I looked at the images of my mother’s cancer on the monitor, but mostly I looked into my mother’s face. It was as if I were absorbing her courage. she asked reasonable, intelligent questions and while she listened to the answers I saw her gentleness and her fear. Her lips quivered a bit as the news sunk in.

I told her that I loved her and would do anything needed to honor her choice in regards to her end of life. Funny thing….this woman that had been my example of independence mixed with gentleness, of courage combined with sensitivity, now turned to me and said ” whatever you decide, Barbara”.

She handed over the care of her final months to me. Until that moment I had not experienced such a profound level of love and trust.