I will be all right each Mother’s Day.

My article about the June 18, 2019 Corey Hart concert, a long-awaited sensation to grace Winnipeg, Manitoba exactly a year ago, revealed that my dear Mom had serious pneumonia that night.  I trusted that the rare concert would soothe my terrified soul and that my Mom would survive.  I lived in gratitude thereafter.  Every time I saw my Mom in and out of the hospital:  I told her she was an answered prayer and she loved it.

She worked through temporarily low immobility and energy, which doctors took a perplexing long while to identify as mini-strokes.  Hospital stays from unit to unit, as she got better and went home, had the positive result of visits every week, privately.  A Daughter and her Mom need time alone to talk about whatever they like.  My Mom was formidably strong but mini-strokes persisted.  She ascended to Heaven on January 3, 2020.

I wondered how to announce this.  We had Christmas together, December 30 too, and I greeted New Year’s Day 2020 with my dear Mom as well.  I live out of town and cherished each occasion to be bolstered by all her love and preparedness that I needed.  I would return on January 3 if there was time.  Waiting for Ron to get home from work, something made me say aloud that afternoon, what I planned to tell my Mom.  I spoke to her soul to soul:  that I understood that despite the change in energy, she would still be completely HERSELF.  If her body had had enough, it was okay to go without me being there.  She did:  that hour.

Father’s Day gave me an idea of the writing approach to take.  Ron & I hosted it for my Dad, Uncle, and cousin.  The elder brothers are recent widowers and my cousin, brothers, and I are missing our Moms.  I have no reason to be sad on Father’s Day.  However, I am finally sharing the major news about my Mom, by saying that on Mother’s Day too, I was okay.

The family came over to spend that day with me as well, which made it easy.  But we have a very good Mom, who taught us that bodies are like outgrown clothes we shed.  We exist as much as ever and are still available to each other;  even if we can’t see them.  I have such a sense of my Mom being here, that I have cried little and constantly feel like I am about to phone her, or like she is about to phone me.  I am comforted by the very strong awareness that my Mom is only slightly out of sound and sight:  like a baby secure in her crib, knowing her parents are on-hand.

I am sorry she only lived to age 75 and wish the answered prayer had granted more than 7 months of grace but I used them in gratitude entirely.  I notice a lot of people ascend to the next chapter in January.  It allows healing and time to get used to a big change, before Christmas and our birthdays arrive again.  I think loved-ones in Heaven are relieved we take their transition as well as possible, so they enjoy the reunions and wonders there, with pets and other loved-ones.  If sad, it helps to think:  “I wouldn’t want to ruin her good time, worrying about me”.  Calmness returns.

I did dream that my Mom phoned me recently, after I had needed her.  Thank you for that:  I heard you and appreciate the reassurance!

About RIEDEL Fascination

I cherish animals, plants, reading, music and free spirituality. I welcome you for articles, literary activities, and interaction! Surrounding ourselves with good people is a delight. I occasionally review at The Book Depository.
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2 Responses to I will be all right each Mother’s Day.

  1. neeruahcop says:

    Beautiful and moving. Keep writing and sharing.

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