As many of you know, I lost my little mommy recently. A passing can be many things: sad, painful, lonely, weird, but also, ultimately, a relief that the person is free from a body devolved into not much more than a vehicle for pain and mental confusion over its last few moments in this dimension.
Yes, it was her time, and God bless her, she went out in peace, knowing she was so loved, and into the arms of those who left before her.
As for me? Well, there is an odd quiet that happens when a loved one passes. It’s such a private moment that there are no words to describe it. And tears? That is odd too. They don’t always happen right away, as one would expect. So you move about the planet but nothing feels the same. It’s not bad. It’s not good. It just is.
People respond predictably and there is comfort in that predictability.
And then someone deviates, and it rocks your world.
After the countless cherished Facebook and LinkedIn condolences, snail mail sympathy cards, phone calls and hugs from friends, there came one day a card, which on the outside looked like so many others. Except this was not a sympathy card, as expected.
This was a Thank You card.
Huh? I was confused as I opened it, wondering what on earth its author was thinking?
And there it was, the single most precious note that I have ever received in my life, thanking me for taking care of our mother and dad. Wow. It was even hard to breathe for a moment because I was so taken aback. And then the tears came, and all that pent-up emotion that goes along with elder care just went bye-bye. I was left with the feeling that I, not Mom or Dad, was the lucky one.
I always knew this on some level, but my sister’s beautiful recognition of this brought me the healing I needed.
Thank YOU, sister K, for walking this road with me. You were always there, and Mom would love how this story ends. After all, nobody told a better story than she did.