• Your mother died.

    by  • April 3, 2010 • Family Stuff, Those Gone Before Us • 0 Comments

    I read it on your Facebook post.  So odd.  To read something  of such cold, hard reality in such a passive form of communication.  Sidled between the friend requests and the game notifications is the life-altering news that your parent has died.  It’s good, I guess, that you can provide up to the minute reports of devastating events and avoid the difficult phone calls to neighbors and family members.  It just seems disconnected.

    It reminded me of being in the dentist office and the office assistant was reading news reports of Anna Nicole’s son’s death.  Even though I was not necessarily a fan of hers, she was what I considered the lighter side of celebrity: pretend, untouchable.  Bad things weren’t REALLY supposed to happen.  She was supposed to get drunk, fall down, have a breast exposed, make the papers and then go to bed to get up and do it all over again.  She wasn’t supposed to suffer a real life tragedy.

    And reconnecting with you after all these years and days later your mom dies.  It’s surreal.

    I am so sorry that you have to go through that.  I don’t even know you that well anymore but we share a history…our mom’s raised us together.

    Naturally my own mom’s life expectancy comes into glaring focus.  I want to turn away from your situation to avoid having to face my own.  My mom is my light and I would need to throw some sort of mourning parade to alert family, friends, neighbors of her passing.  But who am I to judge anybody?  Nobody.  I’m sitting safely in my bed knowing that my mom is minutes away from a hug and a kiss and an I love you.

    You are thousands of miles away from a body that used to house her soul.  The first person you would normally call is now reason you need to pick up the phone.

    I am so sorry.

    God bless all of our mothers and our fathers and our family.  Radiate in their warmth and appreciate the good and bad in all of them.  Let’s wait to complain about their habits until they’ve passed on.  Instead, let’s laugh with them, and take moments out of our day to appreciate them.  Hold them tighter, acknowledge them for their success and encourage compassion. Be in the moment with them.

    Leave a Reply