I was not prepared. I didn't know my mom's death would unearth me.
Right now I'm gluing, mending and stitching myself back together. I'm formulating theories, stratagems, and making adjustments in my little personal manual that instructs me on how to better live life. I'm going to pin and paste my ideas onto my giant cork board of wisdom, the one I store in my head. After that, I'm going to visit it daily, plant my feet firmly in front of it and stand with confidence while I read it again and again, remembering everything even the sweet smell of it all.
I tried to take pictures. I used my heart and my camera. I tried hard to record everything that happened to me and how it pierced me. In the last three weeks I have seen the best there is in life and the worst and I have tasted the spirit in a way that I shall never forget. I saw things. I felt things. Beautiful things. Even in all the pain, it was a most remarkable journey and I am different now because of it. Pain can teach and bless.
I am in an upright position today. A little shaky but standing. My body is seriously sore from it all. Tension, stress, hurting, crying, laughing, sobbing, stewing and soul searching over it all has manifested itself in every cell in my body. The pain seriously leaked out my seams, while soberness and the spirit crept in to sooth me.
There was the day I woke up and couldn't move. Every rib in my chest felt broken. You ever had a cough that worked your muscles until you couldn't move? I had a cry that lasted all through the night and it worked me over, every inch of me. I thought for sure all my ribs were cracked and broken. My heart felt broken too.
Today I'm determined to live. I'm living for two now. I'm not just thinking about it. I'm actually going to do it, live with my mother in mind. I will live to bring honor to her. I don't care what anyone thinks either. I'm going to live my life with deep penetrating soulful purpose.
I'm going after the good stuff and I'm going to gather up all I can. The real stuff, not the fake. I'm looking at life a little differently, with more honesty. I am more determined today to dispose of the soul robbing kind of temptations that I sometimes get caught up into. I'm a raccoon and I'm letting go of the symbolic worthless shinny object that often entraps me. I'm setting myself free today. I want to taste and savor the honest part of life, the good stuff that resides in places few people dare to dig.
I also discovered something else today. I know what I want to be when I grow up. I have a new goal ---I want to be a S O U L O G R A P H E R! I can't wait to crack out my camera. My grieving moves me.
I want to say something. Life lived soulfully is the only way to live.
With that in mind I pay tribute.
Just a little tribute to my mom!
My Wonderful Mom!
My Wonderful Mom!
I got to care for my mom for the last five and a half years.
I was in her home nearly everyday.
Several times each day in fact.
In the beginning she was my guardian.
In the end I was hers.
It was hard.
It was trying.
It was my schooling.
I learned important lessons.
Priceless lessons.
I was the lucky one!
I was the lucky one!
(This is my mom with her wedding cake)
Caring for my mom was a priviledge.
It was an honor.
I will forever be blessed and changed for the good because of it.
My mother was 90.
Yet nearly 500 people came to pay tribute to her when she died.
They all said the same thing.
"Your mom was the hardest worker I ever knew."
"Your mom was a lady! A real lady!"
"Your mom was fun, full of personality!"
"Your mom was a beautiful woman inside and out."
"Your mom was dependable."
"Your mom was one of the greatest people I ever knew."
My parents were perfect!
Maybe not by the worlds standards.
Yet still perfect.
Absolutely PERFECT for ME!
My mother is my hero.
She worked harder than anyone I ever knew.
She went without a lot.
And yet I never knew it.
My mother was my best friend!
My greatest fan!
Every stage I ever stood on, she was front and center in the audiance.
She always clapped the loudest!
In my rodeoing years
She drove me everywhere.
She hauled me and my horse.
When I was little she rocked me.
I had asthma and I still remember her lap, her love, her sweet tender care.
Once a week my mother went to club.
I would stand in the drive way and cry till she came home.
I was my mother's shadow.
Today I was headed to the grocery store.
Thoughts still penetrate my mind.
"When should I check on mom?"
"I wonder if mom needs anything."
My soul is still trying to care for her.
It forgets she is gone.
The other night I went over and sat on my mom's porch.
I miss her.
There was a soft glow from the ark light.
The dim lit night was quiet and peaceful.
This Autumn has been painfully beautiful and symbolic.
The night almost felt summer like.
I just sat there, savoring 55 years of memories
Tears ran down my face.
They were tears filled with gratefullness.
For one life unselfishly lived.
One life that has blessed me with everything I could ever need.
I love you Mom!
Watch over me.
Stay with me.
Lead and guide me home.
Help me see the road less traveled.
The one that makes all the difference.
And most of all,
Let my life reflect all the goodness in you!
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