As I was struggling during the transition from high school to college, my Mom wrote me a letter I still have and read from time to time. This will be my letter to her.
There are two things my Mom had lying around her apartment, notepads and bibles…I’ll just use the iPad we shared for COVID communication…
Dear Mom,
Thank you. … Thank you for being you.
Thank you for birthing me … and always reminding me and anyone else, …you did!
Thank you to both you and Dad for raising me. …
I learned some hard lessons early in life, they shaped the human I am today. I have gratitude for you both and those experiences.
Personal growth stems from a willingness to step into the uncomfortable, rather than clinging to the comfortable. We shared some discomfort, didn’t we?
You’ll always be with me, mom. You always have been; even when you weren’t sure … and called a few times in a day to remind me you were “there” and “loved me”.
We had a unique relationship over the decades. … I played many roles … but you were always my mother … and I was always your son.
Through our relationship I learned to be both strong and soft; to be resilient and compassionate. You instilled within me a deep appreciation for empathy; … first in our early years and later indirectly as your care-giver. … We learned how to stretch; how to do and say the hard things and grow closer through those challenges. We both practiced unconditional love, always.
Friends from high school and college have been sending me messages of all they remembered and cherished about you, … it is easily summed up as a proud mother with a BIG HEART who loved her sons deeply.
I am grateful for all the traits I inherited from you and Dad, … my BIG HEART .. will always be … your gift to me. Big hearts can be hurt easily, so to be strong I learned to protect it, … something you never did. On more than one occasion you took in those in need.
I learned too late in life that asking for help is not a sign of weakness. When I met Annie, I learned a servant’s heart does not have to be an enduring solo mission. It was you Mom, I spoke of, on an early date with Annie in San Francisco, that broadened my human experience with her.
Always, when you saw Annie, you would smile widely and say, “it’s no wonder you married her”; … it seemed somehow you knew that I needed her, even though we never spoke of it. … You loved Annie for many things, among them, deeply caring for me.
My deepest hope these past few years has been to create experiences to share with you my inner child, who only came out to “play” occasionally … that part of me was often overshadowed by the very intense and “adulting” version of me from adolescence onward.
I endeavored often to bring you joy and laughter; … more than anything I just liked to see your wry smile when I was goofy with you; … contorting my face over video or telling a fib…like when we hopped in the car in 2016 to make the journey to Pittsburgh to be closer to Matt and I told you we were driving to Canada so I could escape the law, … and you responded, … “well, you better drive faster”.
More recently, we and the care-givers had fun with the more mundane things like ice cream cravings, snack bags, Lester Holt, and of course Burger Boy (aka McDonalds).
You’d ask what I do for work and somehow my answer that I was a construction worker on the internet translated through you to the care-givers as “My son John works for Hallmark and he makes the commercials we are watching!”
You were always proud of both Matt and me, no matter how small the achievement. Your pride helped me believe … I could do … anything; … our shared experiences taught me the mental and emotional endurance to run 100 miles and race by bike with a team from coast to coast. … Of course, my love of fitness began with the crush on Jane Fonda you started for me with all your aerobic tapes and jazzercise classes.
There have been two meditations since you left us on Friday, that I have reflected on. First …
Today, in each moment, I have the power to choose. …
I choose to believe your soul is in a better place.
A place without pain, fear, and anxiety.
I choose to believe you are surrounded by boundless beauty, love, and joy.
I choose to remember you as the person I needed you to be with the biggest and purest heart.
I choose to keep you always in my heart driving me up every mountain top and carrying me through every valley in between.
The second meditation is,
“The soul is the purest expression of an individual and is not bound by physical forms or fleeting emotions.”
… Which reminds me of the Sanskrit phrase “Namaste”.
To you Mother, Namaste, I honor the Place in You in which the entire universe dwells.
I honor the Place in You which is of love, … of truth, … of light, … and of Peace.
When you are in that Place in You … and I am in that Place in Me, … we are one.
In our final moments together before you drifted away into a peaceful sleep, you said, “we got along famously”… and yes, I agree, we did.
Thank you. … I love you. … Rest in Peace,
Your Son, John
