Posted in Death, Loss, Mom

Missing you today and always

December 25th, 2018 is when I said goodbye to you, holding back the tears while rushing out of your room. We had spent the last 10 months together, and I felt positive that I had given you hope and something to hold on to. Health wise you did better then you had in a long time and things were looking up. You had your purpose back and the promise of me coming back to take you back home. Home into your own four walls, your beloved house.

December 25th, 2018 would be the last time I’d see you alive. Maybe it is the holidays without you, maybe it is the anniversary of such day, but today hurts just a little more and I miss you a lot. I don’t even know why I torture myself with thoughts of whether I would have stayed longer had I known? But the thoughts automatically appear and I can’t help it. Would I have hugged you a little harder, perhaps longer? Would I have given in to the feeling of holding back the tears, and instead freely just broke down in front of you, the strong woman you have always been your life. Would the love for showing you how much you meant won over the fear of you seeing me as a weak individual, telling me to get it together?

What does it matter? I know there are questions that will never see the answers. You are no longer here to set the record straight and I will forever wish to see again. Once more and once more and yet once more again. You are missed and I love you so much.

Posted in Inspiration, Life, Mom

Everything has changed and the dream about the castle

My last week in Germany is upon me and it’s a gut wrenching feeling. So much has changed in such a short time and I’m still processing everything that has happened during my stay and before.

For the first I came back to my home, not finding Mom waiting for me, instead she is gone forever from the physical world. There hasn’t been much extra time to spare, and I am amazed at what was all accomplished. It’s strange to think that during her living times, Mom never managed to get me home for good, and it is now in her death that I want to stay and that leaving seems even harder as it was while she was alive. It’s hard to wrap my head around. I think it is because it is here, in her house that I feel the closest to her, and I’m not ready to go and be away from her, although I know it sounds silly and I carry her within my heart, wherever I am.

I can hear her words “Take care of my house” and “Yeah yeah” was usually my common response, never understanding those words and their impact until now. Her house was her everything, it was her little castle. Now it’s becoming mine and the responsibility has shifted from her to me. I understand her worries from a different angle, and I don’t want to leave the house that I always doomed of not even being up to today’s standard. That still holds true and much needs to be remodeled, but it is because Mom was waiting for me to come home, to remodel then, to do it together. I never came and so it never got updated. Yet she planned and she saved for a day she had no clue of whether she’d ever see it. Even now, in death, she is still trying to care for me and her dreams of this house and all the hard work that went into it.

She didn’t see us do the remodel in her living days and I could easily sell the house that was my parents dream and run, never looking back, but it’s not that easy and it’s turning out different then I could ever have imagined. There are plans clouding and occupying my mind. It’s a little like an operation called “save the castle” has started all of a sudden that is winning on popularity and is taking over by storm. I have a meeting scheduled with a contractor next week and saw the town mayor as well. Much is still hangin in the balance, but one thing is for certain. It is the house I grew up in, my parents house and my connection to my home in Germany. I am not ready to let go of it and I will do my best to save it and make Mom proud after all.

Posted in Life, Mom

As life goes on

A month has passed since your funeral, and you’ve been gone for almost two month. Some days, which are most days, are still so surreal and hard. I am waiting to wake up from this horrible dream, but I won’t and you are gone. I know you are always with me, you continue to live within my heart, and yet it is not the same as nothing replaces you physically being here. To hear you talk, to laugh with you, just seeing you be. Days are tough but the nights are the worst. When the hectic from the day returns to silence and the grief finds a way to be felt louder. I just can’t believe you are gone, that we never talk again. Some days I am angry at you for leaving like this, without anything. You knew and yet you took your secret with you, without saying anything, no word for me, or the ones left behind to mourn and miss you so much. And yet I understand and I know you could have not let go otherwise. I truly hope that you are at peace. I can’t say that I am yet and most days start with tears and end with tears. Not counting the hours in between where memories sneak in and remind me. I sorted more of your paperwork and last things from the nursing home. The things that were with you last, that witnessed the energy of your life dwindle away. It’s hard and it never goes without heartbreak to touch those things.

Monday was extra emotional for me and I didn’t put it together at first. I kept busy for part of the day, but soon realized that after my errands, I was looking for ways to distract myself. I was treating myself with a new lipstick. I bought the same one last year and it quickly became a favorite, until I lost it once I returned to the states. It’s a miracle I found the same one again, but it soon had me tears as I walked out of the store.I knew all too well that I was placing a bandaid onto what really was going on, that I was trying to lift my spirits. I was running from the memories, and my feelings. I know it’s no solution, but sometimes I feel I have to. Sometimes I feel that the sadness is physically manifesting inside of me and there are a few reasons as to why I say this. In any case, I did my best while I suddenly remembered that it was a month since your funeral.

I have nearly one month left here in Germany, and much still needs handling. It’s been a crash course in all sorts of things and it’s amazing how much you learn in a short time. What needs to be taken care of and handled, and what might not get done in time.

I have a court appointment on Wednesday about the inheritance, getting the house into my name and so forth. I need to be identified as next of kin and the only one. I arranged to get a copy of my birth record. It looks different then my birth certificate which is in the States, and I found out what time I was born. I have always wondered, but Mom never really remembered the exact time. It was 7:45 AM, July 20th, at home, in a little village called Marktbergel is when I saw my first light. I cried as I saw it, with a different meaning I never thought of before. In the past I was curious about the time for astrology reasons, but now I was thinking that it was “that moment” when our story began. The story of Mom and me, when she gave birth to me and I became her daughter in the physical world.

Posted in Death, Life, Mom

The early years

Mom and me many many moons ago…

If roses grow in heaven lord, please pick a bunch for me. Place them in my Mother’s arms and tell her they’re from me.

Tell her that I love her and miss her? And when she turns to smile, place a kiss upon her cheek and hold her for awhile.

Because remembering her is easy, I do it every day. But there’s an ache within my heart that will never go away.

You are missed beyond words and most days I pray for the strengths to cope with your loss.

Posted in Inspiration, Mom

Surprise, surprise

I opened Moms coloring book the other day. I had sent it to her earlier in the year as she took a liking to coloring. I had looked at it as I bought it, but the pages where kind of insignificant at the time. I merely looked at them determining if Mom would enjoy coloring them. That was all.

I opened the coloring book and on the page was a dragonfly. Surprise, surprise. Mom spoke yet again and there have been so many instances lately with the appearing of these dragonflies that I’m left in a curious nature to see where the next one will appear.

I started to color that very page, but only for a little while as it is still too painful to do for me. Doing something so personal to her at the end of her life leaves me in tears for her loss and makes me miss her even more. I had to stop ad closed the book. And here again, the very page I had started to color, was also the cover page of the coloring book, with the dragonfly symbolizing the connection with Mom.

Surprise, surprise.

Posted in Family, Life, Memories, Mom

Moments like these

I’d imagine there will be many more moments just like this one. There will always be a surprise lingering and I have found quite a few sorting through some of Moms things.

Today I found some picture from June of 1998 such as the one above of Mom and me. I was living in the states already, but was here to visit. I remember this picture and she was getting ready to walk Pookey, originally my dog but whom stayed back with her in Germany once I moved. I’m not sure how I managed that at the time, all I know is that I surely couldn’t leave my dog behind these days if I had one.

I look at this picture now and remember her taking off with the dog while I stayed behind. How I wish that I could take that walk with her now. It’s crazy that we always live a life wishing we would have done this and that, a life with regrets, but I guess it is normal. Perhaps the key is to stay conscious the best we can to have as little of those regretful moments as possible. This can only be achieved through being constantly aware of our actions and the consequences such bring. For us and for all around us.

I found something else today that pulled on my heartstrings and which dates back to before I left for the states, a long time ago, 30 some years. It’s crazy to think that she held on to it for all these years. I found notes, written notes from me to her. They are just scraps. Scratches, silly notes of communication, instructions to wake me up at a certain time, to bring me a surprise from the store, stuff like that. I think I know why she has kept them. They were written in a funny, joking way. A way Dad would have behaved, and perhaps it reminded her of him.

I have always struggled to see and feel Moms love. I’ve always needed more. I was a child fully aware of my feelings and my heart was on my sleeve from little on. I’ve always felt too much and throughout life I got hurt because of it, but also experienced beauty and bliss that can only be experienced by feeling the extraordinary and making yourself vulnerable. After Dads passing I took on responsibilities that a child nor an adult could carry and fulfill. I grew up too fast and my personality diminished while I stood in the shadow of my father trying to take care of Mom. Of course nobody could have ever filled those shoes, but as a child, even then, I felt I had to do something to bring a little light to her life. It was my mission until she died.

Today my heart burst’s as I look at these notes from a different angle. Yes, they may have reminded her of my Dad, but maybe she kept them because I wrote them and they had a special meaning without having to stand in anyone’s shadow. She stapled them all together and they were here all this time. They stayed behind in memory while I left and moved away. I never knew until today that she had kept them and I’m sure it won’t be the last heartfelt emotion I will find in what used to be her four walls and where she spent most of her life.

Posted in Death, Life, Mom

Mom – A bond that couldn’t be broken

One month ago I received the terrible news of Moms passing. It’s hard to believe that four weeks have passed, and yet it feels so unreal and hard to grasp most days. It’s a never ending nightmare with the same outcome. She’s just not here anymore, not in the physical sense anyways, but I feel her presence other times and know that she will forever be with me. Sometimes the signs are subtle, sometimes they are smack into my face and Mom has always had a way of being very direct, even blunt at times. At least with me. She didn’t held anything back and she let me have it, especially if I aggravated her in some sense.

She kept her mouth shut on most occasions, even in times when she was wronged and she never talked back about anyone in a bad or revengeful way. She wasn’t dumb and her exposure to the world was minimal, but she still knew and had a healthy take on right or wrong. She kept her feelings, her opinions to herself for the most part, perhaps to keep the peace, to not rock the boat. After all she was alone most of her life and I was far far away in another country, but when it came to me, she spoke her peace without sugarcoating anything. She was blunt and direct. Today, I know that I have inherited this from her, but my approach is a little different. I’d be lying if I said that her ways didn’t leave pain and scars behind, that they didn’t cut deep into my heart and burdened me with a heavy load most of my life. I’d be sugarcoating it to dismiss how hard these times were, how much I have chased her love and acceptance as her daughter all of my life. And yet I have never held it against her, and her being gone couldn’t hurt any more. I loved her unconditionally and she was always my Mother. It was a bond that couldn’t be broken. I pleated with her when she was strong willed and dismissed me and my feelings. I’ve never stopped trying to make her proud of me and a couple of times I even received a few glimpses of what this could feel like.

I know that in the end she has always loved me, she just couldn’t verbalize it. I wouldn’t trade our time last year and I realize how important that time was for both of us. How much closer we got, and that that love was always there. She has shown me while I grew up without my Dad in the form of providing for me and even now in her death it is still trough material and financial ways that she provides for me. It was always her way to show you that she loved you. She provided, she bought things for you. If I could choose, I’d give it all away for a one big hug and one sincere “I love you.” She managed to give me half of it in this lifetime.

So if you think money can replace love, think again because love is priceless and can not be replaced. A hug, a look, a touch of hands, a heartfelt I love you, will always be worth more then anything you can buy. Material things can make you feel good but their magic never lasts. Love fills your heart with warmth’s and a strengths that will last forever.

Posted in Death, Mom

Hello Mom

It was a few days before Moms funeral that I spent a few hours at a place in Rothenburg, called the Lotus Garden. It was a beautiful place to just be and to relax, trying to calm my mind.

Little waterways run through the small park, creating natural habitats for birds, insects and goldfish. There are plenty of sitting areas nestled into corners to enjoy a Latte from the cafe at the edge of the park. I did after I walked the small park, taking in all it’s artifacts such as the gazebos, the large Gong, and the presence of Lord Buddha honored with several statues. I loved the energy of the place and perhaps for the first time since arriving I was taking a deep breath.

While walking through the park, I reached a small red footbridge that crossed a waterway. It was lit up by beautiful sunshine that is not all that common here in Germany compared to my home in the states. I was surely going to soak it all up and charge myself with warmths and glow. I stood for a moment when something extraordinary happened and a dragonfly landed on my hand. I knew immediately that it was a sign from Mom and that she had come to comfort me.

I miss you very much and I cannot convey the pain that I feel. A bystander in the past, I have given my condolences to others, coworkers and friends who had lost a parent. My sentiments were always heartfelt and sincere, I knew their pain, but never in a million years could I have prepared for how intense this pain is. You just don’t know from an outside point of view until you experience it yourself. My heart bleeds for everyone that still has to face this some day. With no parents left, it also became apparent that you can feel like an orphan at any age.

Posted in Death, Life, Mom

At the beginning of life

Picture of little Mom and her Mother. Her life was just starting. I sometimes look at her, this little, and brace my heart for this poor little innocent soul that had no clue of how strong she would have to be in this hard life that was already laid out before her. How could her soul ever have signed up for so much pain? And how could mine had signed up to witness and see it all. I believe that our souls sign up for different lessons and maybe she needed to experience the many faces of pain and loss. Of what it means to start over and over again. Maybe my soul needed to experience what it means to love unconditionally regardless of how much time was wasted and how challenging of times there were. We had ten month that mattered the most. Ten month compared to a lifetime, and all I can say is that it is not enough.

I know that many things were never in my control to change, but I will forever wish that her life could have seen more sunny days and that we could have shared even more together. I miss you so much.

Posted in Death, Loss, Mom

Be still my heart

It’s only been last Friday that Mom was buried, but in a way it feels like an eternity learning about her death. There has been such a long, lingering pain that dates back so much further than September 28th the actual day of her passing.

October 1st, I boarded a plane, on the way to Germany, knowing full well I was too late this time and would not see her alive again. I arrived on the 2nd of October and said goodbye to a closed casket that later in the evening disappeared from my view in a Hearst, driving into the darkness.

Mom wanted to be cremated and all of the closer family knew that we better not put her in the ground with all the worms as she occasionally mentioned it in her serious manner when it came to that subject. I guess she needed to know that she was to be taken seriously and that she meant every word. All of us knew….

The urn would take about ten days to come back and there was a weekend and holiday in that timeframe as well. There were times I energetically connected with Mom, when I felt her presence and when she sent me a little sign like a dragonfly one day. (I will save this for another post soon.) Over the next days, I would always see that Hearst driving away with Mom lying live-less in her casket, going for her last ride. And the driver that nonchalantly just waived goodbye as if he was leaving a party while all of us stood in our grief.

Many of times my mind wandered to the crematorium and tortured myself with pictures of what the actual process might look like. It’s absolute horror when you are grieving and yet your mind loves to just add to the misery. It’s awful. Would I be able to accept her being gone, would it finally sink in that that person just is no longer? Would I get my closure or would my mind continue to torture me?

I wanted to know and yet I didn’t. On Monday I found out and received an official certificate of when and where Mom was cremated. It was very hard to see that certificate with her name on it and my heart hurts anew.

4th of October 2019 at 16:14