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            30 October 2010

As moms and daughters often do, we had our moments me & you….

We made each other laugh, and we made each other cry… we had our moments 

you and I...

But on this saddest day of all, even our squabbles seem so small.

The Angels have you with them now, and to fill that hole, I know not how.

Two years gone by since last we touched, yet time and space just seems too much.

In my heart you shall reside till again we meet on the other side 

 When the first line of this poem popped into my head late last night, it felt as though a message from my mom to me, was somehow blending itself into the tribute I had intended to write for her. It’s hard for me to explain the feeling exactly but there seemed to be a hidden deeper message from her that kept filtering through – not just for me but one that needed to be shared, therefore compelling me to write this piece. I had the sense that much of the message pertains to our getting real so to speak, about life and death especially as our consciousness shifts and we begin to understand that it is merely a thin veil that separates us – the “living” and the “dead.” A confirmation so to speak of what we innately already know, but have forgotten to be true. 

We are more ‘alive’ when this body that carries us around is dead because the entire picture becomes clearly visible, and suddenly we understand everything about everything about the life we have just experienced. With the ego no longer our companion and saboteur; all the why's and wherefores become logical and apparent, all our questions answered. 

It’s those of us left behind who consciously or unconsciously carry unnecessary burdens, guilt and so forth making our grieving process ever more intense, whereas on the other hand our departed loved ones have long forgiven and let go of anything other than unconditional love between us because they have nothing but appreciation for the experiences we afforded them, the lessons they had the opportunity to learn because we walked alongside them on their sacred journey, and thus allowing their soul to evolve as was intended.

When I wrote the poem, the mention of squabbles and ‘moments’, felt odd and somewhat emotionally detached from my intent to write a loving tribute to my mom on the anniversary of her passing, but the first two lines kept repeating themselves in my mind and eventually I had no choice but to let go of resistance, guilt and fear of possibly offending her somehow because it omitted any mention of the beautiful, loving and strong woman she was, and simply allow what was coming through to flow from pen to paper. There was a feeling of so much love around me when I wrote it, that it was as though I was wrapped in her embrace as she whispered the words in my ear, and already I knew there was deeper significance hidden ‘between the lines’.

This brings me to the message meant for all who read this albeit in your personal context - as a daughter or mother or as a son or father, I believe there is relevance to be found.

Losing a parent is a common bond and experience all humans share (except in the tragic event of a parent losing a child), because regardless of circumstances, and whether or not they raise us, near or far, at birth or later in life or whether our relationship was close or distant, there is no getting away from the loss we experience – or how we experience it - when they are gone, be they biological or parental figures who’s loss we feel as intensely as we would had they given us life.

We are so conditioned “not to talk ill of the dead” that when someone passes – even someone we didn't particularly like or get along with, we have the tendency to ignore and brush aside any ill feelings or opinions we may have had about them when they walked among us. But like my dearly departed, sharp-witted, no-nonsense mentor and teacher Laura once said to me: “If you’re an idiot when you’re alive, you’ll still be an idiot when you die". Death doesn't guarantee instant enlightenment or intelligence, it does however, present us with a sharp clarity of the bigger picture and yet another opportunity to work through the issues that made us a human idiot in the first place.

 Losing my mom is the most devastating experience I will ever have because no matter what happens here on end, nothing can top the overwhelming sadness, or fill the gaping hole her physical absence and maternal nurturing has left in my life. Yet with that said, it’s as though her death also presented me with a magic eraser so I could rub out all the unfavourable chapters of our story as mother and daughter, or at the very least I could pretend they never happened and find comfort by hiding behind my rose tinted glasses instead by remembering only the good, loving and happy times. It’s been comforting no doubt, but what I'd failed to realise is that by keeping my focus on the good and positive alone, I've denied myself and her in turn, the entire experience and lessons which the gift our life together offered. 

By unconsciously attempting to erase or hide from the many arguments, disagreements, disappointments and so forth we shared in the 51 years as mother and daughter, I was inadvertently erasing the significance of how all those moments helped shape me to become the woman I am today, because that incredible soul took it upon herself to be the exact perfect mother I needed her to be for my chosen experiences and lessons in this life – and vice-versa – so as to evolve and grow.

No parent/child relationship is humanly perfect and ours certainly went through its share rollercoaster rides, but attempting to erase or forget the “downs” and remembering only the "ups" now that she’s gone from this world is equivalent to stealing her experience, her lessons, the challenges she faced, won and overcame because of having me as a daughter, and of course my brothers as her sons – teacher and student – student and teacher. The mere restraint it must have taken not to throttle me from time to time especially in my teens says a great deal for her immense strength, courage and capacity for unconditional love, which in turn shaped me into becoming the strong, capable, compassionate woman I am today, so how can I deny her, her due credit warts and all? How can I “pretend” we didn't have our battles and love/hate moments - equally shared by all parents and children at some point whether or not they care to admit it?

When we attempt to erase the “bad” we deny our collective experience, and when we deny our collective experience, we deny our purpose for being here and in effect stunt our learning, growing and evolving. If we believe that there are no mistakes in the universe, that we don’t accidentally arrive on the doorstep of random parents, then we have to embrace our entire story with them – the good, the bad and the ugly – as being vital to the lessons we chose for this grade in the school of life on this plane. Instead of sulking and licking our wounds way past their sell-by date, we are best served by acknowledging what we have learnt about ourselves through our interactions that need healing, balancing or tweaking then roll up our sleeves, buckle down and do the necessary work. 

We need to let go of our fear and guilt of looking into the mirror that is our parents with absolute clarity and honesty – even when they are gone – because what reflects back are the cliff notes to part of our chosen curriculum. Indeed it may take a great deal of blood, sweat and tears, but come graduation day, we will be eternally grateful for ALL of it, and the opportunities they presented. If we fail to acknowledge these moments and issues as gifts for our further soul's evolution, then we’ll find that we have in effect taken a step backwards in our spiritual education thus having to repeat the lessons at an entry level.   

So, today 

honour you, my beautiful mother, 

by remembering that we had our moments me and you…. 

We made each other laugh, and we made each other cry…

we had our moments you and I… 

and still we love each other to the stars and back and that love can never die.

With deepest love, respect and admiration, I thank you for ALL of it – for the laughter, the tears and everything in-between, and I pay tribute to your memory, your experience, and your graduation by throwing away my magic eraser and my rose tinted glasses because our story as mother and daughter was perfectly written and therefore requires no editing.  


During the two week period when my mom was in the process of leaving our plane, and probably because I learnt more in those two weeks than I had up to that point in my life, I had a dream about a book I should write about the experience including the title  “Letting go with Compassion”©

It was only when I was editing this message and thinking about what title to use for it, that out of the blue it hit me that the above is part of the book, and so it begins......

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