I remember when I was 5 years old and my mother was reading a book to me that stirred me up in this way...I started crying and told her I didn't ever want to die. Why did we have to die? I still remember that sick in the bottom of my soul feeling I had that night...because it has never, ever, left me.
It's been a daily awareness that every time I look in the mirror, it will be the last time I see that face for that day and tomorrow I will be one day closer to death. I'm no longer afraid of what happens at death. What I fear is what I won't enjoy here anymore because I enjoy my kids so much...to the exclusion of nearly everything else but GOD. When I am passing, lying there, if I have sanity with me, I will be so sad to end the days I have enjoyed with my children more than words could ever say. I wonder... ...what will their lives turn out to be for them... ...who will hold their hands when they are dying? I wish it could be me because I know what to say for my children to make them feel safe. Like, when they had a bad dream and couldn't fall asleep. I knew them by their very souls. I knew what to say and how to say it to each one so that they would feel completely safe. Who will do this for them then? I know the answer but is at best a good second choice...IT WILL BE THEMSELVES AND UNTIL THE LAST ONE, IT WILL BE EACH OTHER. They will remember what I'd say things like, they'll remember how much I love them and they'll remember all that I've taught them. And if sanity is with them...I will be too and they will be so sad to end the days with their kids that they have enjoyed more than words could ever say. And they will wonder what life will turn out to be for their children and who will hold their hands. And they won't fear what happens at death but they will fear what they won't enjoy here with their kids because I will have taught them how to love them with a passion that reaches into to the bottom of their children's very souls. And their children will hold their hands as they will hold mine but nothing will take away the bitterness of our parting. I want to revel in that bitter. It's mine and I will feel angry and so very sad, so proud of them and I want to revel in that bitter. I want it to be powerful and to completely devour me slowly. I want it to sting my eyes and tear my heart out...because I love them so...so...very much. I just want to feel all there is to being a mother...the pains of birth are sweet (compared to pains of parting) and yet I didn't appreciate them fully. I want to feel this bitter fully. It's mine. It's my last feeling to feel until "then".
In my twenties I used to look at myself closely to try to measure visually and from memory how much claim time was placing upon me. At 30, trying to remember my face at 15, 17, 19, was it getting hold of me yet? How could I measure the speed of it's approach? How could I gauge how long I had left and how much appreciation was I having for each day. What had I unknowingly squandered? What could I do to make it up? I was always happy to have a face I didn't mind looking at every day. But the hold I was concerned with wasn't in regard to vanity, it was so much deeper. Suddenly, here I stand, knee deep in my 40's. Next time I blink, I'll be 60 or 70.
I've loved everyday of life even when it didn't love me back the same.
If life were my husband, I would have been a battered wife. I've endured this in reality and escaped fatal illness a few times. Dangers untold, against great odds, oh if only anyone could ever really know...what odds I've beaten... ...the stories are in bits and pieces and without the ability to sew them all together for someone to really see them... ...I will die without anyone really knowing my love for life to the full. And I cannot take full credit, I know that GOD made it all endurable as well as rescued me...I feel...all the time. I've probably lived the life of three people and yet others have endured far more than me, which just blows my mind! What will the ending of my kid's stories be?
I will only know my first two children for 3/4 of their lives, my third child for half of her life and my last child for 1/4-1/3 of hers.
I really ache over my last child, I had her much later. I'm 43 and she's only eight. It just, just, just kills me to lose out on that huge chunk of her life!! I want that bitter to have many rows of long, sharp teeth and to rip through me with slow bites. I want to feel how deep my love really goes as Death tears it out of my heart. I want to feel every drop of goodbye being poured out through my veins for as long as Death will keep me in it's mouth. No one will understand what I mean. Who wants to feel pain like this? But what they can't grasp is what they will miss out on... I had long hard births and I what have now is more than I had then....I want to feel that bitter bitterly -inside me, to the bottom of my very soul. That Death will claim it's prey and I want to fight a violent fight...I want to protest. I want to stay with my kids to the bitter last and I will HATE that beast!!! So, if it will and it will, I want to feel how bad leaving my kids feels and feel the bitter anger of my full protest!!! It's as horrifically precious an experience as birth although it is it's opposite and far more extreme.
My GOD gave me the most beautiful gifts -that made life, my life, just wonderful...more than words could ever say...they are my kids, the ability to experience them and the TIME I share with them.
