It's nearly impossible to believe I survived the past year without you Deborah Lord. A year ago today we circled you in prayer as we watched you take your final breath. I remember closing my eyes in the final moments as I couldn't bare watching your facial muscles make shapes I had never seen. I didn't want that to be my last image of you, and as I opened my eyes to see if your face had relaxed, I saw the final breath which set you free from this world. Sitting on your bed, crying with my sister, I didn't know whether to be engulfed in rage or peace. I was cheated of having my three month old son connect with his amazing grandmother, but you were free. Free of all the doctors appointments, surgeries, discomfort and pain. You were free of all the struggles of being human. You were free of all the anxieties over test results, free of the unknown, free of this world once and for all. One year later, I woke up today feeling a sense of peace. I expected to wake up feeling the depths of an ocean of grief, but instead I awoke feeling a little lighter. Perhaps I can allow myself to see the darkness of grief that crept over me this past year, all the while embracing the joys and beauty of becoming a new mama. I guess I spent the past year observing my feelings of anger as I watched other mamas have their own mother there to celebrate life with their grandchildren. I spent the year avoiding feeling the pain of a broken heart of never getting to watch you play in delight of being a grandma with Zennith. I am still mad at the doctors who forced you onto drugs that sped up the pace of the minute tumor and ignored the contraindications that you clearly had to not take the immunotherapy. I am mad that these same doctors never so much as recognized that you passed away. I am frustrated that the cancer industry continues to be just that, an industry that focuses on making money and not truly curing people. I am upset that I can't seem to remember your laugh or any childhood memories with you. Will they be gone forever? But in all the sadness and anger, I woke up today lighter. Perhaps today is the day I embrace my life without you. Not a day goes by without you here in my life. In fact, everyday I feel like you are literally living inside of me. I hear my voice as I talk to Zen and it sounds just like yours. I notice my mannerisms as I sit on the couch and I feel like I am observing you move my body for me. I never noticed these things before, but now more than ever I know I am your daughter inside and out. Mama, your grandson is so perfect. His laughter, his fake tears, his sway as he walks, his love for life and curiosity is all. so. perfect. And I am sad you have missed it. I am sad he will not remember you. But I am so grateful that you have shaped the mother that I am becoming for him. I know you have sent me "signs" and that I have refused to allow them to be messages by coming up with some logic as to why or how they occurred. But I am listening now. I am open to all that you can teach me from the other side. I welcome your peace. I encourage your whispers in the dark. I embrace your love from every ounce of my soul. I forever will miss you, but I am ready to embrace the slight feeling of lightness that was present when I awoke today. Perhaps you are nudging me in the right direction, and with that I am ready to step onto the path of my highest divine purpose. Please keep guiding me. Please allow my grief to fuel my passion and compassions in life. Please visit your grandson in his dreams. Please guide Leo and I in our struggles in a life committed partnership. Please help me learn to do less and laugh more. I love you so much mama. I am glad this first year has finally ended and that you seem to be encouraging me out of the thick mud. Please keep pushing me forward. And may you continue to fly oh so Free. <3
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February 2018
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