12/27/2023
Way Too Soon
In Dedication To My Mother
Mom, No man is poor who has a Godly mother.
I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know. My mother said the cure for thinking too much about yourself was helping somebody who was worse off than you. One thing that became clear to me is that images of a divine mother are non surprisingly important in the psychological wholeness of men, especially in the process of men taking up residence in their own authority. I always envisioned myself as traveling the ocean of life in a rowboat where my mother was one oar and my father, the other. Having two good, solid oars made rowing much easier. My mother does not own my hands, though she works hard to train them. My mother does not own my eyes, though she frequently directs their focus. My mother does not own my mind, though she yields great influence upon it. My heart, however, she owns completely, for it was hers the day I was born.
A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts. In a child's eyes, a mother is a goddess. She can be glorious or terrible, benevolent or filled with wrath, but she commands love either way. I am convinced that this is the greatest power in the universe.
Consider a small child sitting on his mother's lap while she reads him a picture book. The picture book opens to a width that effectively places the child at the center of a closed circle - that of mother's body, arms, and the picture book... That circle, so private and intimate, is a place apart form the demands and stresses of daily life, a sanctuary in and from which the child can explore the many worlds offered in picture books. Despite all of our society's technological advances, it still just takes one child, one book, and one reader, to create this unique space, to work this everyday magic.
She expected a lot of me. When I was in fourth grade working on a book report, she made me start the whole thing over when she read it and said it was barely even legible. "What's wrong with it?" I asked her. "It's not good enough yet. You have to try harder," she said, her voice gentle. "You have to try hard at everything you do. That's all I ask." I rolled my eyes and revised it, and over time her approach wore off on me and I became like her too - wanting to do my best, expecting my best. Destiny doesn't always come when it's convenient or when you think it should. It comes when you're ready, whether you know it or not.
The truth is, every son raised by a phenomenal women is pretty much born married. I don't know, but until your mom dies it seems like all the other women in your life can never be more than just your mistress. The expression in her eyes was bitter as nightshade. 'You ask me about regret? Let me tell you a few things about regret, my darling. There is no end to it. You cannot find the beginning of the chain that brought us from there to here. Should you regret the whole chain, and the air between, or each link separately, as if you could uncouple them? Do you regret the beginning which ended so badly, or just the ending itself? I've given more thought to this question than you can begin to imagine.
But there's a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your mother's story, because hers is where yours begin.May each of us remember this truth; 'one cannot forget mother and remember God. One cannot remember mother and forget God.' Why? Because these two sacred persons, God and mother, partners in creation, in love, in sacrifice, in service, are as one. Do our dreams carry messages from the great beyond, sent by the people we have lost, or are they a reflection of our desperation and wishful thinking? ...When it comes to defining adulthood, nothing has made me feel more grown-up than knowing that two of the two people in the world who loved me the most, without condition, were no longer in the world.
Mom, without you here in my life It's as though I have lost an arm or leg but still instinctively reach out to feel your missing limb or try to walk again, placing your entire weight on something that no longer is there. I wish I had lost an arm or a leg. It would have been much easier than losing a part of my heart, which lives on, but now beats to a different rhythm without you here in my life. Grief is shameless; it refuses to be ignored. If you let it have its way, it becomes fatal. If you try to remove it piece by piece, it only multiplies like a tumor. And if you try to fight it, it becomes like quicksand; you try to claw your way back to the surface, and for a second you feel the fresh air against your face, thinking you've survived, only to be pulled fiercely back down again, swallowed whole, nothing left.
The beauty of the sea, like you mom is that it never shows any weakness and never tires of the countless souls that unleash their broken voices into its secret depths. It is not that you give birth to a child that matters most. Rather, it is what you birth into them. Babies cry at birth because it is the first time they experience separation from love. I said to God you are lucky, you can create exalted mother, God replied you are luckier than me because you have your mother. Acceptance is to love and embrace everything that we find within ourselves like a mother embraces her child. For this dear Mother I am eternally grateful. My mother was, is, and will always be my life's breath.
Appreciate your mom. She is wiser than you think and stronger than you know. Be thankful. Happy Born Day Mom. Eternally Yours.
Rest Peacefully In Heaven. Love You Always...
