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On an Internet Buddhist bulletin board, the topic of celebrating Mother's Day (tomorrow) after a mother has died came up:
I wrote:
Part of the sadness at losing someone near and dear is, I think, that we
are forced into the position of being ... what? ... the grown-up
perhaps. What was relied on in so many little and large ways, in love
and in anger, is now no longer ... or so it seems.
It is, at first, as if there were no way forward, no way to
be
without this integral part of our tapestries. And yet, with the
softness of time, a little at a time, perhaps, it becomes clear that we
could not be who we are without those who left us without a backward
glance. We are, in fact, what is no longer and thus what is no longer
lives on as surely as a kiss.
We are our mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends and enemies,
whether departed or not. It has nothing to do with poetically dabbing
our tears or sewing up a broken heart. It has to do with the way things
are and the way things are is ... well ... OK. OK to love, OK to
remember, OK to weep, OK to smile, OK to be angry, OK to feel grateful
... Just OK.
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