From my little corner of the world travelling down our humble road, on this calm, quiet Mother’s Day I am pensive. It’s an overcast day but I am surrounded by my comforts, a loving, thoughtful husband, a lifetime of books, nearly 1000 in my personal library, among the other things that bring joy. We don’t have plans with any of our adult children today. I don’t feel any pain, sorrow, sadness, or pangs of missing them. I’ve heard from most of my six. I have flowers from my husband and had a good brunch.
This Mother’s Day it’s other things that are on my mind…
Over the past three weeks, I’ve learned that someone that was pivotal in my life in my early 20s died on April 13th, that a friend of 30 years died on May 9th (attending the funeral tomorrow), and that one of sisters has stage IV cancer. That’s a lot of grief to navigate through.
I don’t know how things work after death, nobody does, but it has been an interesting ride being witness when I’ve been privileged to witness it. I’ve walked to the edge of the river a few times, though it’s not my time to swim yet.
Years ago, the first person that passed wrote a note to me that said, “Life is a collection of memories. I’ve just captured another. THANK YOU!” He was a prolific note writer in the years that I knew him but it’s those words that stood out and have stuck with me. I have saved most of the notes he gave me and haven’t looked at them in years. I have things that I never had and never will have the opportunity thank him for. Some things that I choose to not make public about our antics and adventures. But… He put many Stephen King, Joseph Wambaugh, and John Grisham novels in my hands which still adorn my shelves. I wasn’t much of a fiction reader at the time; the fiction that I read was John Updike and Sidney Sheldon, occasionally, and I focused on non-fiction and magazines. I wanted to be a writer. So, he said write and read as much fiction as you can. It sounds simple but it is not. We shared a love of music, sarcastic humor, and an understanding of being the underdog. He was one of those people we cross paths with that teach us about the world and ourselves. Things I remember… Notes. Books. A triangle guitar pick. Diamond studs. Pitchers of Miller Lite with shots of B52s. The Far Side. Mix tapes. Piere Cardin. Arthur’s. Barleycorn’s. Rest easy old friend.
The second friend that passed was one of the most upbeat people I’ve ever met. He was a giving person loved by many for his generosity of spirit. He didn’t just talk the talk; he walked the walk. I knew him for 30 years. I was so happy that I crossed paths with such a kind person. He will be missed.
And, then there’s my sister with cancer, stage IV cancer. Her loss will come in the coming months. Over the past week I’ve written her obituary with her and started writing a eulogy solo. I’ve put in place for myself what I need to support her children as they care for her so that I can be there for them. She’s starting chemo next week to try to buy time from the inevitable. This is going to be a hard road. Seeing and hearing her level of pain is gut wrenching but I have kept the impact of that on me from her. I do not want to burden her with my grief. So, I have not told her about my recent losses, the second of which was from the same type of cancer that she has, and I have not told her how I feel knowing that I’m going to lose her soon. My friend lived 9 months after diagnosis. He was healthier at the start than her, so I wonder if she will be gifted that much time.
When I think about it, in the end the only thing that is left is love. I just want you to walk me to the edge of the river. It’s a difficult privilege to take that walk with others. I wonder who is going to be there when I take that walk in the future. I think about my husband, my family, and my children.
Despite all of this, I am a resilient person, and today is a good day. I wish all those who are mothers and all those in the role of mother, a very happy Mother’s Day. I hope it’s filled with many blessings.
Our Humble Road 