Momma

I have come to that time in my life that contains losses.  Many of my friends have lost, or are in the process of losing their parents. I lost my mother a little over a year ago.  It was a long good-bye that began for her with the onset of dementia and poor health.  Our relationship had been tumultuous; my mom was a sober alcoholic for over 30 years, but she continued to have many emotional issues.  I was her caretaker - a job that began in my childhood and ended with her death. By the time that I had reached the conclusion that being her caretaker was not healthy for me, it was too late to make those changes in our relationship; in fact, it would have been an act of cruelty to stop taking care of her.  So, I persevered, and learned to overcome my resentment, replacing it with  forgiveness and, to the best of my ability, unconditional love.  As a fellow blogger shared in her post about the loss of her mother, I too became grateful for the gift of the ability to see the woman behind the label of "mother".

I had a wonderful dream about her last night.  We were together, sitting, talking and sharing.  She was healthy, both in mind and spirit.  She held me, loved me, and told me how proud she was of me and of the person that I was becoming. She was a vibrant, joyous person - the person who was always inside her and rarely had the opportunity to show during her lifetime.

Once again, I was filled with gratitude for the gift of having no regrets about our relationship, of having had the opportunity to tell her of my love for her, and to show my love by caring for her.   To the end, she did know who I was, and used me as her lifeline.  What a privilege this turned out to be.  Toward the end of her life, I had to write a poem for one of my classes:

Momma, you are getting ready to leave

I can see it in your eyes

Vague, wandering, punctuated

and bracketed

by moments of clarity.

Momma, you are getting ready to leave

I can see it in your hands

Thin, worn, punctuated

and bracketed

by the highways of your veins.

Momma, I know you are ready to leave

I can see it in your face

Lined, wrinkled, punctuated

and bracketed

by the love that still shines through.

Momma, I know you are ready to leave

I can feel it in my soul

Fearful, mourning, punctuated

and bracketed

by tears as yet unshed.

Momma, it’s all right that you leave

I know that you must go.

Weary, yet peaceful, punctuated

and bracketed

by the knowledge that your twilight has begun.

Momma, I’ll miss you when you leave

But no word remains unsaid

Love and friendship, punctuated

and bracketed

by memories of laughter and tenderness.

Not a great poem, by any means - but it describes my path during that time.  No regrets - that's what I tell my friends who are facing this inevitable part of life.....we need to face it head-on, feel the feelings, and do the things that need to be done and said in order to not live the rest of our lives wishing that we had done things differently.  I am so blessed that I was able to follow through and to do this.

I just loved my dream - It brought me much comfort and peace!