Not everyone is so lucky that have a mom in heaven who sends them prank YouTube videos.
Tomorrow will mark a year since I sang a song for my mother, an experience that still gives me goosebumps. Everything about that experience was infused with loving grace. I'm writing another post for tomorrow, but in the meantime I thought I'd share that post from last year.
I've long seen my mom in Mary, but it is only now that I realize my mom saw a bit of Mary in me, too. As I went off to college, graduated and moved to bigger cities in states far from home, got my first suit, my first apartment. As she watched me experiencing all the highs and lows that come with tossing your proverbial hat in the air as a single working woman. As she saw me live out some of the Mary Richards' experiences she never had.
My mom was 43 years old the day that she listened to the voice. Five years older than I am as I type this. She listened and so she lived. To see graduations, birthdays, weddings, births. To adopt new identities: Mother-in-Law, Great-Aunt, and yes, even Grandmother. When my mother paused in the kitchen that day to listen, perhaps with… Continue reading Choosing to Dance: My Mother’s Breast Cancer Story
Remembering my beautiful mom today. I continue to draw sustenance from her love. In the redwood ecosystem, buds for future trees are contained in pods called burls, tough brown knobs that cling to the bark of the mother tree. When the mother tree is logged, blown over, or destroyed by fire –when, in other words,… Continue reading Redwood Ecosystems and Life After Death
It got lonely in this little room. Plus, all this abundance to share. I could not consume it alone.
Hello friends, I am so excited to share that I have a piece up on the website Keeping Mum! It is a new platform for mothers without mothers. I would love for you to check out my story —and for those of you who are mothers who have lost a mom, you might want to check out Keeping Mum's Facebook page,… Continue reading Keeping Mum
I am embarking on the third round of birthdays, anniversaries and holidays without my mom. In the past two years it often felt like I was fumbling around in the dark with a scarf over my eyes, playing a twisted game of pin the tail on the donkey where I never even came close to the tail and I… Continue reading A failed game of pin the tail on the donkey
I love that when we told my daughter we were having cake to celebrate grandma's birthday, she asked which one? rather than assuming it would be for her only living grandma. Happy birthday, grandma Diane. We love and miss you.
It still feels wrong to speak of beauty in grief. To exclaim the wondrous joys and gifts that blossom from healing. I want to say, but I would trade any of it to have my mom back or my pregnancy back. (And I would.)