Three Years
Dear Reader,
As the 3 year mark of my mom’s passing comes soon, I wanted to share a memory that I have with her. It is one of the last one’s we shared, the night before she died. She was waiting for us to change the sheets on her bed, and get a few things that she needed to be next to her. My dad and sister were doing all of it pretty quickly so that she could lay back down, and she was sitting on the seat part of her walker that she had in her room while she waited. Her body had aged what seemed like 50 years in the course of maybe a month. She looked so different than what I was used to seeing her as, and this confused but also fascinated me. The body is such a mysterious thing.
As she was sitting on the walker, I knelt down on the ground in front of her just to talk to her, because she looked out of breath from moving from the bed to the walker. So I wanted to talk to her and comfort her while she waited. It was very clear to both of us that she was going to die soon, so I asked her about it. This wasn’t shocking, we’d been talking about her death all week, as she had chosen to stop chemo treatments, and have hospice care at her home. We just didn’t know how long she had, but in this moment, it was as if death was sitting in a cloak with his arm gently around her shoulders, and I could see it clear as day. I told her, “you know, I think death is going to be the most spiritual experience you’ve ever had.” And she replied, “I agree.”
It is hard to describe here in words why I said that, because it is rare to speak so openly about someone’s imminent death. But, I felt like instead of ignoring it, we could discuss how possible it was for this transition to be amazing. I wanted her to know that this experience was necessary for her to have, it is for every one of us. That even though she would be surrounded by all of us as she died, her death was hers and hers alone. I wanted her to feel as though she could claim it, she could be empowered in this, and that her death is just as important as her birth. It goes hand in hand, and each of our bookends are profoundly spiritual moments for us, and us alone. They matter immensely. Our lives are not simply remembered by day we are born and the day we die, these are just the first and last doors of many. But these doors are big ones, they are beautiful, and they will reveal powerful secrets to us that we’ve wondered about.
Anyways, I suppose I share this memory and the thoughts surrounding it because there are times when it feels almost impossible to switch out of autopilot mode. Life becomes such a daily grind, and we can so easily forget that we are truly magical, spiritual beings. Death can be one of the best reminders of this. And certainly, one thing that grief can do, is put everything into perspective.
Xo,
Annabelle