Passing

My mother is not doing well. She has been struggling with Leukemia. As of late, she seems to be losing the battle. I find myself pulling in and hibernating much. Cold weather is moving in. Seasons are changing. Leaves are doing their thing. Turning. Dying. Falling off the tree.

I don't want her to die. To think that at some point, I won't be able to call her and hear her laugh her "Pinky" laugh, or tell her stories, brings a heavy sadness I don't want to bear. We have a new level of connection now that we have not had before. I am immeasurably grateful for it, and I don't want it to end. When she was physically healthy, we did not have this level of emotional health. Now that we have this emotional health and connection, her body is sick and weak. I wanted both. I wanted to have this kind of connection and be able to enjoy the daily living of life with her; a walk on a beautiful afternoon, lunch at a funky little cafe, travel to places we both enjoy, skyping. But it is not to be.

I believe it was 1991 when she called me and asked me if I would find out where Mary Lee Zawadski was and drive her to check into treatment for co-dependency or alcoholism, whichever it turned out to be. She said she wanted me to drive her because I "knew". I had checked into treatment myself back in 1987. She did not attend my family weekend at the treatment center. She wasn't ready. She couldn't look at herself, and you can't show up at something like that and not have the proverbial mirror held up. It was about 4 years later she called.

I found Mary Lee Zawadski, who was an excellent facilitator, in a small treatment center in Roanoke, Alabama. I didn't even know there was a Roanoke, Alabama. It was an honor to drive my mother. I remember I drove her little convertible Miata she had at the time. We played Carly Simon's Life Is Eternal all the way there.

Last weekend when I was in the mountains marrying two friends of mine, I found myself singing it again in the hot tub, late at night after the ceremony and reception. There I was under an almost full moon, deep in the woods with piles of fallen leaves all around me, alone in the hot tub singing Life Is Eternal. I sang until I felt sleepy, then dried and wrapped myself in the softest robe and slippers, and headed back up the hill to my little cabin. I slept peacefully. The following morning, I spent a couple of hours journaling with the morning sunlight coming through the turning leaves at the window, fresh mug of Cafe Estima in my hands.

This morning, I leave you with Simon's lyrics about life and death:

I've been doing a lot of thinking
About growing older and moving on
Nobody wants to be told that they're getting on
and maybe going away
For a long, long stay
But just how long and who knows
And how and where my spirit will go
Will it soar like Jazz on a saxophone
Or evaporate on a breeze
Won't you tell me please
That life is eternal
And love is immortal
And death is only a horizon
Life is eternal
As we move into the light
And a horizon is nothing
Save the limit of our sight
Save the limit of our sight

Here on earth I'm a lost soul
Ever trying to find my way back home
Maybe that's why each new star is born
Expanding heaven's room
Eternity in bloom
And will I see you up in that heaven
In all it's light will I know you're there
Will we say the things that we never dared
If wishing makes it so
Won't you let me know
That life is eternal
And love is immortal
And death is only a horizon
Life is eternal
As we move into the light
And a horizon is nothing
Save the limit of our sight
Save the limit of our sight
To hear it click here