The Greiving Curtain to New Possibilities

I was looking forward to turning 50 this year because I believe ageing isn't a means of "getting old", but a wonder of new possibilities.  With ageing comes wonderful awakenings and experiences incorporating past parts of self into newer ones. Yep, turning a soft corner into a new decade is exciting.  So when mom died 6 days after my birthday, the excitement I was beginning to feel was replaced with sorrow.

A day after my birthday, mom went into sepsis shock.  I called the ambulance and she was admitted into the hospital where it appeared she was responding well to the medication.  My sisters and I visited her daily.  I thought she was progressing well; I told her I was heading out to southern Ontario to visit my son and would be back after the weekend to drive her home (I had assumed she would be well enough by then to go home).  I told her I loved her and off I, my daughter and granddaughter went, comforted in knowing my sisters would be there and that she was doing well.  She died a day later in the wee hours of the morning; her damaged heart couldn't handle the sepsis.  Even though I wasn't there, she took a big part of my heart with her.

I had only been at my son's home for few hours before we had to turn back.  I couldn't sleep; I ran on sadness. It's amazing what sadness can do: it can give you great energy or deplete you of it. I met my sisters at the funeral home that afternoon to wash our mother's body in cedar water (a cedar bath prepares her for her journey). I cried to her lifeless body; I was baffled at her leaving.  It hurt but I continued to wash her.  When we were done, when our tears stopped and she was cleansed, we left her so she could get ready for her final sleeping place.  My sisters and I then headed to our homes to wait for the next stage; the wake (we have a wake for 4 days; the 4th day she is buried).

So I went home and dropped into my bed, cried and then fell into a deep sleep for what seemed like forever. In my sleep, mom came to visit me.  She looked like she wanted something, but what?  When I awoke, I went to the fridge and grabbed some blueberries, took them outside with a pinch of tobacco and laid them out for her.  I figured she was hungry and that was why she came to see me.  Mom was diabetic so maybe she needed the extra sugars for her trip to the spirit world.  Yep, mom loved her sweets so why not give them to her

I grew up with the understanding that spirits come to us in our dreams (and other ways) because they can no longer come to us in the physical world.  If we are in-tuned to ourselves, the knowledge of spirits and dreams, then we are capable of still remaining with each other, even when one dies.  I know dad, who died 11 years ago, is around me, my sisters, our family; now mom is too.

Yet, in knowing she is still around, I still hurt.    One moment, I think I am doing okay, and I am.  I can laugh and enjoy life. Then a moment later, I am not, and I cry as I still can't believe she has died.  Depression doesn't fancy me, yet it seems to waif in and out of my day waiting for me at the most inopportune times.  Oh this grief is a funny thing, if only it wasn't so morbid!

And while my sisters have gone back to work, I have not.  My contract ended March 30th, enabling me to spend three full weeks with my mom before she died.  I believe it was meant to be; it gave me time with her instead of being busy at work.  Still, I can't imagine going back to work; I know I would tell people off if I did.  When you lose someone, the little shit things that happen seem so insignificant. I don't know how my sisters and brother are doing it; working and coping through grief at the same time. It sucks.  I know they are struggling.

A while ago I wrote a blog on the art of letting go, which I re-read to determine if I still felt it to be true now that mom has died. It is.  Letting go isn't easy but when you do, you allow yourself to grow, to embrace the positive.  It doesn't mean you stop remembering or stop loving, it means you are okay with no longer carrying the sadness or sorrow.    I want to embrace the positive, to grow.  I turned the soft corner to greet 50 this April.  And while my excitement at this became sorrow, I can see that the beginning has started off with one of the greatest teachings about life; death.   We learn our best teachings, how to be, through sorrow.  In my mother's death she has gifted us life; shown us how to be.  It is difficult right now, but when the sadness fades, it will open the curtains to new possibilities that only ageing and growing through sadness can bring.  

Love you mom.  Mii wi.

In good thoughts,



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