I've been estranged from my Mother for many years. I haven't seen her since my younger sister, Susan, died of emphysema in February of 2004, and for years before that. Family dramas can be heartrending. I won't go into the particulars of why my other sister, dkistner, and I had to make the decision not to be in our Mother's life, but suffice it to say, that it involved a choice that was incomprehensible to me... my Mother or my beloved, fellow-Venusian sister.
Mother has been ill for a number of years, choosing not to have chemotherapy or conventional medical care for uterine cancer. We all supported her in her decision to use only alternative, natural treatments, and we know she would have supported the same decision made by any of us. I had my brother come pick up quarts of Muscogee Tea, an Essiac formula produced by my Native American friend Tom Blue Wolf of Earthkeepers, along with herbal salves and bee pollen to help her in her journey. She learned to make her own Essiac tea and followed her own heart and knowledge in taking care of her aging body.
So, the email came today from my middle brother, Ray, that she had gone down hill rapidly the last couple of days, that the hospice worker was there, and that they were honoring her wishes about dying at home, being cremated, and her ashes not being returned to the family.
This was my response to his email:
Dear Ray, thank you for contacting me.
I want you to know that I love and cherish our mother in spite of our estrangement. I'm glad that you and Ken are following her final directives as I know how important they are to her. She used to say we should just put her body in the compost heap so that it could help bring new life to her garden. I've never been a gardener, but I think Mother's spirit has been upon Diane for a number years urging her to garden, and that she has showed her love for Diane by giving her the energy and know-how to grow things. Diane has also inherited Mother's resourcefulness at creating usable things out of stuff that other people would throw away. I really feel that Mother knows in her heart-of-hearts that Diane needed me more than she did.
I do feel that it would be more upsetting to her for me to be there than not, and I have agonized for years over whether or not to reestablish physical contact with her. If she indicates that she wants me there, I would be there in a heartbeat.
I made my peace with Mother on the level of Spirit a long time ago, and I do believe she has made her peace with me. I will always be grateful to her for giving me her love of reading, writing poetry, and her intense curiosity over the nature of Consciousness and Spirit, which led she and I together along many fascinating paths of exploration. We went to college together, studied Kabbalah together, and laughed over the antics of some of our far-out New Age friends together. I will never forget Jim Richards (or was it Richardson?) in Mother's blue bathrobe, some sort of crown on his head, and a spring-loaded curtain rod as a wand, holding court over some gathering of us New Age crazies at our house on Rosewood. He was in the midst of channeling some ascended master from the great beyond when you came home from college with a friend. The look on your friend's face when y'all walked in the door was priceless. And, I remember all the riotous Hand and Foot games, of which our Mother, The Spider, was the absolute master.
I inherited Mother's open and inquiring mind, and I'm grateful to her for making that set of Classics available to me while I was a child. She so enriched my life by making sure I had books and resources that would challenge me and make me think.
She also taught me tolerance for people who are different, as she embraced black and white, gay and straight, young and old, and she taught me that it was not so much what someone looked like as what was in their heart. I credit her with me making a strong effort to root out my prejudices and to treat all people with dignity and respect.
I want to remember her laughing and excited about whatever she was learning and exploring. I know that her body is a burden for her, and that it will be a relief to her to gain her freedom. I know that Susan and Jean Mansfield and little Robin Elizabeth and countless others will be there to welcome Mother Home.
I love all of you. I choose to celebrate the life of my Mother, Veeda Ozie Howell Kistner McBride and wish her Godspeed to her next adventure. She is one of a kind, and I am privileged to have come into this world through her.
Love, Donna
At 6:00 PM, I stood in front of the golden Buddha that resides on my mantel, his neck strung with strands of rose and clear quartz, amethyst, a rose petal rosary, a mala, and my Mother's rudraksha beads that she gave me when we shared the same guru, of whom there were several. (She was really tickled that Muktananda had "flapped" her with his fan.) I stood and played my Tibetan singing bowl for her and wished her love on her journey to whatever lies ahead in her own personal quest for unraveling the Mystery of Life, the Universe, and the Great Void from which we all emerged and to which we will all one day return.
Thanks, Mother, for being the vehicle of my return (as you so often reminded me). I have asked my brothers to read my letter to you. But, I believe you know how much I love you. Happy Trails to you, and I hope to catch you on the flip-flop.
Always a friend to your soul,
Donna
UPDATED: Just got an email from my brothers. My mother peacefully walked through the doorway to Spirit at 12:45 A.M. this morning, Sunday, April 25, 2010.
I knew before I got the email because I had been talking to her for an hour, sending her healing energy and I felt it...not as a disturbance in the Force...but as a sense of peace that washed over me and I knew that she was off on a new adventure and that she had friends who were eagerly waiting for her to join them.