Losing a Loved One
I admit that I had an estranged relationship with my mom. Early in the course of my life she divorced my father and became bitter and angry. I was the recipient of her anger and at times it was very dark both emotionally and physically. Over time I learned that forgiving my mother was a crucial part of my journey and that holding on to any resentments was not an option if I was to live a life free of emotional chains. Even though we did not communicate all the time our communication was one that was for me intentional and about continuing to heal and open a space for something that looked like maternal love. Finally towards the end of my mother's life I could feel compassion and as I stood over her bed when she was beginning her transition I connected with her by speaking Spanish to her. I was that child who always spoke to her in Spanish because somewhere inside of me I felt a more genuine connection to her and to our common culture, even though she would start each conversation in English (she was very dominant in English). Instinctively I knew to speak Spanish to her during those final moments when she was unable to speak but she was able to respond by squeezing my hand, nodding and tapping. I made certain to share that she could surrender and that we were all going to be OK. My mother left me the next morning and at that moment when she was passing I knew it even though I was not in the room.
I am still grieving a woman who held me inside of her for nine months and "almost blew up" birthing me since I weighed over ten pounds. I am still grieving a woman who really did her best to love me, and like many others I wished I would have known it would happen so fast. I had more to share with her and in my fantasy I danced one more time with her even though she could barely walk. The one thing that I am grateful for were the times that she was able to show up for me and we were both able to laugh like children. I know that ultimately this is really all that matters. Not the past mistakes or the pain but the most recent of times when she looked me in the face, told me she loved me and said to me "kiss your mom".
My mother had a sense of style. She always did. Every day was special to her and every day she looked sharp. I will never forget the baby blue dress she wore one evening to go out with the silver heels. I often times insisted on buckling her shoes and I remember looking up at her with amazement thinking that she was the most beautiful mom any boy could ever ask for. It was at those times, before the abuse got bad that I felt close to her because I admired her and thought her to be special. I have a sense of style as did she. I love fashion and I love looking the very best I can present myself. She taught me that fashion is not what is important but the expression of who you are as a way to show the world your creative self.
Elizabeth Gonzalez was a woman who loved her home and in every part of it was something of an artifact that meant something to her. It was not just furniture it was telling of who she was and some of her values (Angels, Saints, God, little children) that came forward in her home. Her bedroom was a sacred place where no one was allowed to enter. She taught me that our home is a sacred space and worthy of love and care. Today I live in a home that expressed those values I learned from her.
My mom loved me in her own way and what I accepted was that she had imperfections and that she was worthy of forgiving. My mom loved me and when she left this earth I realized I had lost someone of importance in my life. No one could ever replace her, even with all of her imperfections. My mother loved me in the best way that she could with the tools she was given. She was not aware of every mistake because she did not know of it. My mother tried to love me even when I was unable to love myself and at those crucial moments she let me know that she was all she could possibly be for me.
Losing a loved one is difficult no matter how we turn it but if we can forgive them for their flaws and release ourselves of any resentments this makes it much less painful and more grace comes over us and our life. Mothers are all that they can be for each of us and because they are human they make mistakes. For some of us losing a loved one becomes a process of forgiving and letting go. For many of us losing a loved one when things are not quite resolved gives us a chance to do that on our own and to forgive ourselves for any mistakes we made along the way. Losing someone we love is not the end of the loving and it is never the real end. It is only the physical body that leaves us because if we believe the spiritual body can stay connected to us and the love can and will continue.
I am still grieving a woman who held me inside of her for nine months and "almost blew up" birthing me since I weighed over ten pounds. I am still grieving a woman who really did her best to love me, and like many others I wished I would have known it would happen so fast. I had more to share with her and in my fantasy I danced one more time with her even though she could barely walk. The one thing that I am grateful for were the times that she was able to show up for me and we were both able to laugh like children. I know that ultimately this is really all that matters. Not the past mistakes or the pain but the most recent of times when she looked me in the face, told me she loved me and said to me "kiss your mom".
My mother had a sense of style. She always did. Every day was special to her and every day she looked sharp. I will never forget the baby blue dress she wore one evening to go out with the silver heels. I often times insisted on buckling her shoes and I remember looking up at her with amazement thinking that she was the most beautiful mom any boy could ever ask for. It was at those times, before the abuse got bad that I felt close to her because I admired her and thought her to be special. I have a sense of style as did she. I love fashion and I love looking the very best I can present myself. She taught me that fashion is not what is important but the expression of who you are as a way to show the world your creative self.
Elizabeth Gonzalez was a woman who loved her home and in every part of it was something of an artifact that meant something to her. It was not just furniture it was telling of who she was and some of her values (Angels, Saints, God, little children) that came forward in her home. Her bedroom was a sacred place where no one was allowed to enter. She taught me that our home is a sacred space and worthy of love and care. Today I live in a home that expressed those values I learned from her.
My mom loved me in her own way and what I accepted was that she had imperfections and that she was worthy of forgiving. My mom loved me and when she left this earth I realized I had lost someone of importance in my life. No one could ever replace her, even with all of her imperfections. My mother loved me in the best way that she could with the tools she was given. She was not aware of every mistake because she did not know of it. My mother tried to love me even when I was unable to love myself and at those crucial moments she let me know that she was all she could possibly be for me.
Losing a loved one is difficult no matter how we turn it but if we can forgive them for their flaws and release ourselves of any resentments this makes it much less painful and more grace comes over us and our life. Mothers are all that they can be for each of us and because they are human they make mistakes. For some of us losing a loved one becomes a process of forgiving and letting go. For many of us losing a loved one when things are not quite resolved gives us a chance to do that on our own and to forgive ourselves for any mistakes we made along the way. Losing someone we love is not the end of the loving and it is never the real end. It is only the physical body that leaves us because if we believe the spiritual body can stay connected to us and the love can and will continue.
Comments
Post a Comment