Hey, Mom! Talking to my Mother #3 - "Don't be scared."
I decided that this blog needed a picture of a puppy.
I could post another picture of you here, but I thought it was time for a puppy because puppies makes us all feel happy. Even though you were a cat person, Mom, I know you loved our dog, Satchel, featured here when she was only a wee pup. The shoe in this photo is meant to give you perspective on Satchel's size. The photo was taken 1209.04, only thirteen days after we brought her home.
So, these early posts (not sure how long "early" will last) will all be about your death, Mom. You know, the final days, and everything that happened. I will repeat many things I said to you then, but I may find some new things as well, which is what today's post is all about.
A modified version of the previous paragraph will now appear at the blog post found via this link: EXPLANATION POST FOR HEY, MOM!, which will grow as I evolve the purpose and meaning of this blog feature.
On your last full day, I told you that "it's all going to be okay." By this I did not mean that YOU were going to recover and live, we all knew that was not true (and I hope "we" includes you, but I am not sure if you knew). But I meant that WE would all be okay here without you. I also meant that you would be okay, too, but in the sense that with whatever comes after, you would be "okay." I was trying to reassure you, like you did with me when I was a child. I stroked your hair. I held your hand. I repeated "it's going to be okay" over and over.
But did I tell you not to be scared? I can't remember. Already so many of those moments are slipping away. But I should have told you. I should have told you not to be scared BECAUSE everything was going to be okay.
On the other hand, maybe I did not tell you not to be scared because you didn't look scared. I am not sure if you knew you were dying. There was a moment when you seemed to be telling us: "What the Hell are you all talking about me dying for? I am not going to die." But then there were other times when I could see by the look on your face that you knew, and you were not scared. I like to think that you were at peace, even as you fought to stay, and that when you finally had to leave, you did so without fear.
Maybe the right thing to say was not that YOU should not be scared, but that I should not be scared. Because though I knew your death was coming, and in many ways, I had been preparing for it for fifteen years, I was both resigned and terrified. I am still scared, facing this life without you, not knowing even how to live that way. But I am figuring it out, one breath at a time.
So, here's a beautiful tree. Whatever follows physical life here on this planet, I like to think you are part of things like this tree now. You are part of everything. Such a thought should make us both less scared.
Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.
- Days ago = 04 days ago
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1507.08 - 8:35
|Tree in Hilo, Hawaii - pictured 1310.05|