Dear Allison, this is my therapy this day, pouring out my heart to you, as if you don't already know what lies there, what sounds it makes, how it weeps for you on this last full day you spent with your family and friends. I long to close out the physical sounds of your cries as you begged to come home this day, so anxious that no amount of drug would calm or sedate you. I work in all ways to shut out the screams, the begging, the pain, the rage of cancer, literally taking over your strong and amazing body, the darkness of night and I strive to only remember the sweetness and the gifts that come from this day. But no mother wants to remember the LAST day their child had, no matter how you look at it, even through the beautiful lense, I don't want to think about it. So I have stayed busy doing other things, even with the snow day, and the cold, I am warmed by your love in this house, that lingers through the belongings I touch and the photos I scan. Why I have finally chosen this time to go through all the photos that your sister and friends put on the boards for your service and visitation, I don't know. I guess I was ready for this step. But board by board, picture by picture, I would find myself in utter disbelief, still, that you are gone. I want you to know that what I miss most is your hand. That was our common touch. It amazed me how you were not embarrassed to take my hand, in public, in private, and there were times I wasn't sure who was holding whose to lend strength to the other! Right now, I want you to know, I feel your hand and it is holding tightly through this day, these memories, this moment.
I just want you to know, too, that rocking you to eternal sleep was one of my greatest privileges, if not THE most important act of motherhood. It stays with me, not just on this day, but every day of my life. I want you to know that the gift I received from that moment was that all fear is gone, I have nothing to worry about any longer. Even should I lose other family members, and I will, I will not fear, for I know now that you are there, and through salvation and the gift of grace, they will be, too. I know horrible and terrible things can still happen, cancer can invade, accidents can occur, suffering will come again, but don't you see, I have faced the giant and if peace comes from all of this, it is the notion that all is temporal and this too shall pass. I have held my head up, lived a life, and I will die, someday, a long time from now, I hope, knowing that I served God with dignity. You have taught me so much.
I used to ask God relentlessly to help me find the peace that passes all understanding. I will never understand your illness or death. So, I have never really tried. But I have begged and pleaded with God to show my why and how it was you, and slowly, over time, the answers are there. But I have to be open to see them. I pray to be still and hear Him, feel Him, even when I am busy. Oh, I know, I have the gift of time. And believe me, I am grateful. There is nothing more beautiful than retirement and having your day to follow where the spirit leads. But, Allison, if I am honest, my retirement came about as a result of you leaving, so sometimes, I call it the mixed blessing. But sometimes I know it was all part of God's plan for me to be where I am. I must admit, though, when people tell me they are envious or jealous of my retirement, I do cringe. They don't know what those words say to me, they couldn't. So, I don't try to explain. But you know. You know that I want to cry out and say, "no, you don't want my life", "this isn't as you think you see". I want to tell them to look deeper or let me explain. But most people don't have time for that, the important ones, do, though. And that is all that matters.
I want you to know that you have helped me recognize the signs you send and allow myself that it is "okay", that it is not strange when the times I need it most, that "right" person calls, or the other day when I was sitting in a parking lot, listening to a song that was so YOU, with tears running down my face, and needing so desperately to be "connected" to you, my cell phone rang, and it was Sandy, in her office, listening to the same song, on the radio, feeling pulled and nudged to call me in the middle of her day, something that she does not do, but knew she had to at the time. I felt you and I know you knew what I needed. I want you to know I do not question these things any longer. I have learned that when you "live" in spirit world, so much can happen, and this is how our relationship must be, now. I want you to know I am more aware and appreciative and I see you, feel you, know you, everywhere. It is no longer cliche' that you are in the wind, the sun, the moon, the stars, the plants, and the sunsets, sunrises. There is no explanation as to how, on the first anniversary of your passing, the skies across the country turned pink and photos were e-mailed to all of us, and in Iowa, Rut could see a clear and distinct "A", outlined in pink, against the magnificence of God's handiwork. You have helped me put the wonder in wonderment and I enjoy it all. It doesn't matter who believes or not, for all I know is that I do, and that is all that matters.
I want you to know that our connection of the heart is my greatest gift today. For nine months I felt your heart connected to mine in the deep bosom of my soul, your body entwined with mine. And in the last hours, it surely was God's plan that our physical souls were wound together, as one, with Dad looking on, and holding us both. I will never, no never, forget the hours that begin tonight, of me holding your hand to my heart and mine to yours, and never moving it. I wanted to feel every heart beat, and as it began to slowly fade, I could lay my head on your chest to be sure, and I could know that you were at peace. I just want you to know that moment will never leave the chambers of my own heart and has bonded us for eternity. I thank God every day of my life for that moment, because I could so easily been someplace else when it was your time, but I wasn't, and Dad wasn't, and Jen wasn't. And you had your dog, in the form of a stuffed one, but as you said your final words and took your final breath, there we all were, one family, one unit, blending as one soul.
I want you to know that my heart is pouring and my thoughts are whirling and my soul is aching, but I am blessed. I have never ceased to list my five blessings of every day in my "blessing journal". Some days that is all I can accomplish, other days I can be as productive as I was in a 12 hour day at work! I want you to be proud. I live to serve who I can and what I can, in the name of the Holy Father. I live to find myself and will live through this journey, I will be here for your father and sister and all who travel in my path. You have shown me how to BE.
Your mom, eternally, with love.
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