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I Wish I Had Been With My Mother When She Died ~ Perhaps we have nothing to fear

I wish I had been with my mother when she died. I wish I had joined her in those final stages of release, sat nearby when she turned inward to behold her radiance. I wish I had been there when she saw again the truth of who she was, dropping the selves that she had worn through this lifetime.


I wish I had felt her melting back, letting go of all that had held her prisoner.

Death took her hand and said, "Turn towards this, turn towards this." I imagine she relaxed, finally. My dad was next to her, did he notice? Did he see and celebrate, or was blinded by impending loss?

I wish I had known what I am beginning to know now when I touched her warm body an hour after she was gone. There was still a tiny strand of saliva running between her teeth. I was fascinated in my grief by this last vestige of life. Once it broke, there would be no more. The body's movements had ceased.

I wish I had protected the space so I could have had a surrendered silence with her. People coming and going disrupted the sacred bell that had been rung. I think I could have heard it.

I wonder what she held in her then as she took me in, her daughter, her imperfect love, all restored to wholeness.

I would have liked to feel her, her essence shining, her wisdom moving like wind, her final pause with me before streaming on.
Beginnings...
GENTALIA
 

Comments 1

Mary Neighbour on Friday, 22 February 2019 18:09

Andrea, this is so moving. I have no true understanding of these moments, yet I feel the longing and the love.

Andrea, this is so moving. I have no true understanding of these moments, yet I feel the longing and the love.
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Monday, 06 December 2021

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