I went back yesterday to la maison de ma mere. The only place in the world where I have kissed the earth.
I went back with my daughter. This is a women's house.
I went back and visited each and every room, as I always do. And opened the big armoires, all three of them.
I went back, and said to myself, 'No more'.
I went back, and saw the passage of time, clearly. Pictures of ancestors whose names I never knew, and my grandmother's old wedding garland.
I went back, and tried to keep my heart shut, not wanting to cry.
I went back, and was met by the old, familiar smell of mold, in the kitchen. The light was dim, and I poured ourselves some water.
I went back, and took one last picture of my daughter and I, in the overgrown yard.
I went back, and left, closing with great difficulty the big portal.
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Best wishes to your mother, Marguerite. That slow, drawn out grieving process is challenging for sure, with all it's weirdness and ups and downs. May you and your family be as awake as possible with your mother during your remaining time with her.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Nathan. I know you speak from experience . . . I find grief of any kind, to be a great teacher of mindfulness, and loving kindness. Hence, buried in the pain, is also the joy from knowing I am right where I need to be.
ReplyDeleteWith much gratitude for your kindness.
perfectly you.
ReplyDeleteWith Gassho,
~Seiho
Thank you Seiho. Finding your acknowledgement here, pleases me.
ReplyDeleteMay you be well.