Grief stricken could not even begin to describe my state of being after learning my mother had died in a car accident.
Thrown into the first stage of grief, denial, I walked around numb, dazed and confused. I did not believe any of ‘it’ was true.
My mother?
Dead?
That’s just not possible. There is no room for negotiation.
She must be around here – somewhere!
Sure, as a family we went through the Catholic rituals, the wake, the funeral, the sendoff – (my mother was cremated) and life went on.
It was challenging to remain in the state of denial for too long, because she was never home when I went to visit my parents’ house. My mother was nowhere to be found. The house sorely missed her presence, as did I. Couldn’t deny that!
The days and months rolled by.
Grief morphed into Anger.
Anger morphed into Bargaining.
Bargaining morphed into Depression.
And finally, Depression morphed into Acceptance.
The road was long, the grief deep, the process, well, let’s just say the process changed my life in more ways than I have the space within the confines of this column, to express.
Acceptance was achieved in large part due to my mother’s reaching out from the spirit realm, connecting with me, and letting me know she had not died, she had merely changed form. She invited me to ‘try something new’.
Mind you, up until then I had never given a second thought to communing with the spirit realm. I found her invitation intriguing, as you can imagine. Oh happy day! To remain in close contact with my mother would be a gift! I decided to accept her invitation and the journey commenced.
Time passed and our connection deepened and required less and less mental thought. Our time together became second nature. Rather than having to find a telephone and dial her number to talk with her, I needed only to place my hand on my chest, my heart, to feel her presence.
As for her hugs – oh God, did I miss her hugs. Deprived of her physical body, the power of her strong, tender hands wrapped around me and the warmth of her loving heart beating against mine as we locked in an embrace; feeling in that moment as if everything was right in the world; left me feeling empty… motherless. I craved her hug. She remedied that by recommending I hug everyone I meet in memory of her. I took her advice and my hug brigade began.
Though I recall these memories as they happened yesterday, it has been nearly two decades and our friendship and love is stronger than ever. She is always available. All I have to do is think of her – speak with her – she is with me. She is a part of me. It may sound absurd but I am closer to my mother now than I was when she was alive!
I feel her essence in everyone I hug.
It is never too late to cultivate a connection and strengthen a bond with someone who is in spirit. During this month of gathering together in gratitude and thanks, who might you invite to your table to hug, love and remember?