The diaphanous veil between the living and the dead is getting thinner. I can feel my father closer, my brother. They are waiting. I can’t really say this to my family because we’ve been saying “Mom won’t make the next XYZ” for the last 24 years. It’s gotten to the point where we won’t believe it until we see it. And who knows how long a person can.
I want her to have a good end of life, but I don’t know how to bring that about. She has a DNR, C. will make the final judgment if we need to turn off her machines and pacemaker. (there will be mighty discussions between the three of us girls before hand, it’s not just hers alone) Her cremation is paid for, our plan to have a boat take us out to the Golden Gate Bridge or beyond to allow her to travel the way she never could in mortality. I guess now it’s just a matter of all the family to make amends with their own soul and forgive grandma/great grandma and let her go being loved. She wasn’t trying to hurt us, not consciously anyway. She wanted what was best for us, even if what she wanted was skewed towards what she needed more, but truly is that her fault? She relied on the way she was raised, and the pain she experienced on our side of the conversation must have been worse as she believes she wasn’t loved or wanted. Mom wanted us, she loved us to the best of her ability and with the few tools she was given, and isn’t that all what we can do? Holding someone to a standard you hold yourself to is just as unfair, lacking compassion and sincerely extremely selfish to the point of narcissism. True narcissism isn’t something you choose, it’s not like fat where you can go on a diet and emerge a shadow of what you used to be….Narcissists don’t believe the need help or to change, the rest of the world should. I wish I could take this understanding, acceptance and love and share this enlightenment I’ve been given to my family but I can’t, and even if I can will they have the frame of reference of the months past to understand it with. Or the desire to truly forgive her and let her go?
The depression and the tentacle like grip the other accessory ailments has robbed me of the ability to feel a lot of feelings. Well all feelings except anger. With the containment and proper placement of that merciless flame the other emotions are coming to the surface and I can say something I never thought I would be able to say. I love my mother. I started this journey hating her and silently planning her funeral like a mother plans her daughters wedding. My biggest fear was that I would hum “Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead” in my pew at her funeral, now I’m not afraid to loose her, or my reaction to it, but mostly that I will be unable to take care of myself without her to remind me to eat, to wake me up when I fall asleep on the couch, to guilt me into cleaning up the house. (I know, I’m a grown up, for heaven sakes, I should be be doing that for myself already).
This feeling of love for my mother and the spiritual lifting I’ve had over the last several weeks makes me wonder if that’s why I am able to feel the veil so close. The only thing you really take with you is your knowledge and your love. Love you give is the silken strands that weave your body for the next life and the love you receive is the decoration. Or so is my belief.
(I’m not saying my Mom is in the throws of dying, she’s not. I do know her body is starting to give up and betray her in ways she never thought it could. I’m just saying there are people waiting for her and I can feel their presence. It could happen today (better not it’s my birthday and her sister already died on my birthday) or it could happen next week/month/year/decade etc. My nephew J has a saying “At the end of time there will be Dick Clark (rip), Grandma and cockroaches.” There are days when I look into her eyes and see the steel will to live and I actually start to believe that he isn’t far from wrong.)