Judy Price is Writing

Yesterday marked the 13th month without my mother.

I decided to spend the day hiking in the woods, even though the humidex registered 100 degrees F with possible thunderstorms in the forecast.

A small group of us made for an enjoyable outing in spite of mosquitoes and deerflies. 

It was good for me to be with others on this day. 

The 8 mile trek seemed like what would be 12 in cooler temperatures, and the thunder, though close, only sent a warm rain, not lightning, at the end of the trail.

Afterward, washing away what the heavens did not felt soothing.

There were no tears to mix with raindrops and showerspray this day as in past months.

The prior week had used all of my soul’s anguish, and even now as I recall those feelings my eyes brim.

They do not overflow, which tells me healing is replacing grief one day at a time.

As if on cue, my Mom’s Christmas cactus sitting on her desk is blooming, signalling renewal even as fall approaches.

As I sit at the computer on a beautiful, hot summer’s day in July, I recall the hospital room I sat in one year ago today.

My mother lay there, as her spirit was leaving her shell of an earthly body.

The only thing I could do was watch, as I spoke softly in her ear, and encourage the staff to make her as comfortable as possible. 

She was sleeping, and then she was gone.

This has been a long road for twelve months, and one journey I know will never really end until I meet her again on the other side.

In the meantime, I will relish the signs she sends, and live my life to the fullest, enjoying the moments.

The waves do wash over me occasionally, yet definitely not as harshly as in the beginning.  I seem to be able to let myself go with them now, and surface calmer.

Yesterday I felt anxious and sad.  I couldn’t understand the reason, until I realized that my body was remembering how I felt twelve months ago.

The sympathy cards are laid to rest now, with my Mom.

The memories will always stay in my heart. 

My hope is, that as time passes, the sadness will lessen with the arrival of each anniversary, and the love I feel for my mother will infinitely grow, encompassing others.

I could not let this day go by without acknowledging my birth country’s one hundred and forty third birthday!

Very young indeed.

One year ago this morning was the last time my mother called to wish me a Happy Canada Day.

This was the day before she began having a series of strokes which took her life after nearly two weeks of fighting their effects.

She was a very proud Canadian who took every opportunity to show it.

This one’s for you Mom.  Happy Canada Day!

Eleven months ago today my mother died in my presence.  I felt her spirit leave her body.  Her eyes stayed closed.  She was at peace.

When I visited her graveside on her birthday, after my return from England, I felt at peace seeing the plaque completed with her year of death in addition to my father’s.

Perhaps my sense of inner contentment relates to the knowledge deep within my soul that my parents are reunited and live in a spiritual dimension now. 

When in England I observed many signs of life everywhere; of my Mom and my Dad.

I’ve already written about the Seven Sisters, and climbing them one month ago today, acknowledging one of my mother’s seven sisters as I reached the crest of each of the seven cliffs. 

On the 16th of May, the day after the ten month anniversary of my mother’s death, I was on a hike which encompassed twelve miles of the 1066 Country Walk, retracing William the Conqueror’s footsteps beginning at Pevensey Castle during the Norman invasion.

PevenseyCastle,1066Country

I have previously written about my father’s ties to the Normans and Dover.

On the 1066 walk, in the long grass to my left, I noticed two pairs of ears topping the blades of green. 

I exclaimed ‘these must be rabbits’, and one of the English hikers remarked that it must be ‘hares‘, and that he had never seen one on this particular walk before. 

In fact he acknowledged that he had not ever seen two hares at one time on any hike!!

I readied my camera and gingerly approached the direction of the pointed ears, when suddenly the pair bounded in sync before me so quickly that I had no time to react.

I stood and watched in amazement and awe as these magnificent creatures ran together in unison in a wide circle around us all and made their exit into places inaccessible by us, mere human mortals.

I have never seen a ‘hare’ before.  Jack rabbits, rabbits and tiny bunnies, yes, but never a ‘hare’ and now I have seen a pair of them.

I felt their presence then.

The next day in Brighton, as my hiking group sat in a restaurant on the pier, I received a text message from my eldest daughter telling me about the dream from which she had just awakened.

My mother had visited her in the form of one of her seven sisters, and gave her a most wonderfully warm, solid, strong hug as she told her she wanted to get her ‘hair’ done.

I replied to my daughter recounting my experience with the pair of ‘hares‘ on my 1066 hike the day before, and that I had climbed the Seven Sisters the day before that.

Yes, signs of life are everywhere . . .