“No one will ever know the strength of my love for you.
After all, you’re the only one who knows
what my heart sounds like from the inside.”
One of my friends’ mother ended their life journey yesterday. My heart weeps with them. You can lose many people in your life, yet, there is no death that will ever compare to that of your mother.
Symbolic and compelling, it was her body that provided the womb in which you began life and pushed you into the world. To witness the end of their life is something you never forget. There is no relationship as intimate as a mother and her child. At one point in time, you were one and the same.
My Mom and I had a contentious relationship at best. When it comes to the end of life, there is nothing to be lost, everything to be gained. In her final six weeks of life we found our way through a complex maze to find each other. She left this world with both of us appreciative and at peace with one another. It was our final and ultimate gift — honesty — raw and pure.
We did that delicate dance that mothers and children do. The point when the parent becomes the child to be cared for. Simplistic in origin, our routine was bathing her, talking and laughing, then reading to her until her medications eased her into peaceful slumber.
It was in those moments that the reality of what it means to end one’s life journey hit the hardest. No pause button, no rewind, just real-time living. A shocking reality that those memories would have to sustain me the rest of my life.
With each friend who loses their mother, I relive losing mine. There are no words that can adequately express the pain associated with coping with the loss. We all find our way through the grief in our own unique and personal way.
It is at times like this I bring out my book Tear Soup by Pat Schwiebert. My comfort is found in its pages. The book is an intriguing comparison to the art of making soup and grieving. Your thoughts and memories blend to create a uniquely flavored soup. Family and friends are welcome to add their own spices. Your soup is never finished. You take it out and season it now and then, as I have recently, with fresh tears. Then, I put it away where it awaits me in my next time of need.
Today I am thankful for ..
- The women in my life.
- A reminder that life does not last forever.
- A renewed sense of appreciation for those very much alive in my life.
We are promised two things in life. We are born and we will die. What we do with the “in between” is what makes us who we are. Pay it forward today to a woman who makes your world a better place.
affectionately yours, Laura
**revision of post 13Feb14 Mom’s Tear Soup ** © 2014 llpeltier When Enough is Enough