Good bye, Mama

Dear Mama,

The long good bye is almost at its end, so it seems. You're in a hospital 90 miles away. They're keeping you "comfortable" (What on earth is that?). How can you be anywhere near comfortable when you can't eat, can't drink, can't walk, can barely open your eyes, and have an interminable cough? Will the sound of our voices, the touch of our hands, the "knowing" of our presence bring comfort? I hope so. 

Nearly six months ago you leaned over Daddy's lifeless form, felt his forehead, and kissed him. You turned, looked  into my eyes and solemnly whispered,  "He's gone. He died." You kissed him again, and again. You left the room where he lay and kept returning, until you finally closed the door for the last time. Your life has not been the same. It seems as though you've been racing to follow the man who stole your heart a lifetime ago.

My mind is traveling to years long ago, when I ran to keep up with you. Now I only want to run--to get there fast--so I can keep you forever. I don't want to let you go. I want to be there by your side. I want to hold your hand. I want to fiercely tell you that I love you, and hope you know. 

When I was a small child, I called you "Mother," the endearing term you had used with yours. Later you became "Mommy." During my teen years, you became "Mom," the name that stuck the longest. I sprinkled these with others: "The Hostess with the Mostest," "Madame Chairwoman," "Mother Superior." These past years your vulnerability brought me to "Mama," an endearing term that all your children now use. Though the Mother of our memories, you've become our Child. We long to protect you, to comfort you, to make the going easy. What can we do? We love you!

Mama, I will miss you, though I will keep you forever. In ways that defy explanation, I will travel beyond my memories to  a place where tears will be no more, where there will be no more sickness or dying, where all will be love and joy and peace and beauty. We'll be together again. Thank you for showing the way. 

Your daughter      xoxo

P.S. I'm on my way--please wait.

                                          Last Friday 3/15/13 at Town Center Village