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LOSS

The current mood of greenwitch at www.imood.com

moon phases

One year ago today my mother left her busted assed body and got off planet. That by its self was a good thing. Being a prisoner of a body that does not work much at all is a real drag.

Having said that, the fact is the woman was my mother and she is very much gone.

Gone are the stories she told almost constantly before the MS creeped into her head. Gone is the woman who would bake every Friday. From scratch. Gone is the woman who fought mightily to continue walking. Only giving up when the injuries were outweighing the benefits. Gone is the woman who called me Baby even when I clearly was no longer a child, much less a baby. Gone is the woman who taught her granddaughter, A., to clap her hands with a great joy.

Gone.

Gone into the frozen bitter ground of a deep December freeze that seems like a dream this tepid December. How could it have been so cold last year. How could the ground have been so blindingly white. How could that hollow shell have housed someone so brave. So determined.

I am glad she is free of the terrible disability of the MS, the diabetes, the simple failings of age.

I miss A. sitting on her bed with books spread out all over. Paper and crayons strewn about in a chaos of sharing.

I remember the woman who would sit in a bean bag chair in my room when I was 15 and listen to Pink Floyd with a smile on her face. I gave her Dark Side of the Moon for xmas that year. She loved that album. Music was something we both always understood. We understood it loud. We understood it with tears on our eyes.

So much distance traveled by someone who couldnot travel under her own power. Not far at least. The mother of a teenager already 60 when I was 15. Listening to my analysis of religion, social order. Letting it all spill out into the world. She rode the wave of my youth when her legs would no longer allow her to leave home often.

Gone.

To better things. Where legs work well and hands don't drop the glasses. Shattering pretty things. Pieces pulled close for examination. Renewing a dreamed world. Seen in snapshots from a recliner on the deck. A better place with high strong steps taken over great distances through exotic places.

A candle burns brightly on the mantle tonight. The xmas tree is dark. No other light is needed.

written at 8:55 p.m.
December 12, 2006

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