A mother’s love – one of the strongest forces in the universe. There are likely few who will argue against that statement. Whether she is still with you, was with you most of your life but now gone, was only with you for a short time, or was gone before your knowledge of her; the love they gave filled each of us for an eternity. We may not also recognize that of course; there are folks I know who still insist their mother was a satanic spawn. And of course, for some that is, on the surface at least, seemingly true. Certainly bad people can become mothers, and for some of them, the bad carries over into motherhood. For others, it’s a perceptual thing; my mother hated me they wailed, for years. Until they gained some new perspective and recognized that their mom was just trying to raise them strong and prepared for life.
I’ve written mush about frequencies, harmonies, and the music of the soul, the spirit. And of the idea that energy is forever and always; there is no loss of that energy – it merely changes state. So what of a mother’s energy? That force so laden with love? What does that become?
When I was 10-ish, we went to Jamaica. We landed and as was the way back then, we walked down a set of stairs from the plane and across the tarmac to the terminal. It was night, maybe 8PM although I don’t know that factually. The air was warm and wet; my youthful obliviousness was unable to ignore that fact. Fast forward and we were loaded into a station wagon; mom, dad, and luggage. I rode in the back – the very back – on the tailgate – feet dangling out over the road. Within minutes I was drunk on the tropical night; the sounds, the smells, the absolutely perfect mixture of warm air, humidity, and breeze caressed and enveloped me.
To this day 50+ years later; I still remember the magic of that ride to the hotel down that dirt road. And THAT, is the magical energy of a passed mother’s love. Eve was gone only a few years at that point; taken from me kicking and screaming I am convinced; horrified at leaving her little boy alone. And I may not have immediately known it then, but that night was her gift to me; a mother’s love, a mother’s embrace.
I remember spreading Lillian’s ashes on a high bluff on Mt Tom on a day words cannot describe; hot sun, blue sky, a breeze that was so ridiculously perfect it tickled the soul. And was I said my goodbye, and the ashes took flight to the forest below me, one, then two, then three, then four hawks circled above me in a dance of one final farewell. A gift from mom.
And Ma, the mother who had be the longest (as she always bragged); a mother in law by title but a mom by love. She gave me years of such moments in life and continues to provide the same in her passing; glorious days at the beach with my grandsons with the waves lapping at the shoreline, children screaming and giggling, hot sun and cold water creating the ideal balance; those days are her gift to me.
And thousands more: hikes in the deep woods of primordial dense fauna – a cathedral of hushed and solemn reverence that ties us to our creation; crystalline streams and brooks carving bubbling ribbons in the dense emerald green forest; treelines that burst open into meadows of brilliant sunshine ablaze with the colors of summer. All these moments are borne from mother’s love.
Learn to recognize the gifts they have brought to each of us and luxuriate in their love. It is their everlasting gift to us.
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