Symmetry

The last few days have been very hard. This is the first Mother's Day without my mom. Some people have said, "Well, at least you know she's in a good place, free from pain." Others have said, "Don't be sad on Mother's Day. Think of YOUR children, because you are their mother."

Both statements are valid, but did not bring comfort. I miss my mom. I know she is in a better place, I know I'm darn lucky to have such great girls, but I can't help missing Mom.

I didn't get offended by the people who made those comments, I know they don't know what to say. But their comments made me feel guilty for missing her. I can't help it, I just do.

Tonight I was telling Rick's friend that Mother's Day would be a hard day, because I missed Mom so much. He said, "What do you miss most about her?" He didn't make me feel guilty. He lost his dad ten years ago, and he said it is still very tough for him. In fact, as he spoke of his dad, his eyes filled with tears. So we shared some things about my mom and his dad that we miss. And I cried. But it was a good cry.

My grief is a sacred thing. My love for my mother has no end. I will be missing her today, on Mother's Day. I'll also be rejoicing with my wonderful husband and three beautiful daughters. Sometimes I see Mom's expressions in my daughters, and sometimes I do things that remind the girls of my mom. It has a certain symmetry.

In Black Water Woods

In Blackwater Woods
by Mary Oliver

Look, the trees

are turning

their own bodies

into pillars

of light,

are giving off the rich

fragrance of cinnamon

and fulfillment,

the long tapers

of cattails

are bursting and floating away over

the blue shoulders

of the ponds,

and every pond,

no matter what its

name is, is

nameless now.

Every year

everythingI have ever learned

in my lifetime

leads back to this:

the fires

and the black river of loss

whose other side

is salvation,

whose meaning

none of us will ever know.

To live in this world

you must be able

to do three things:

to love what is mortal;

to hold it

against your bones knowing

your own life depends on it;

and, when the time comes to let it go,

to let it go.