I lost my mother five days ago. She was, as most are, my biggest fan. She thought I had a great voice. She thought I was a great writer - LOVED my writing!! There was nothing I couldn't accomplish - she truly always believed in me - absolutely. She gave me my humanity, my confidence, my compassion. Most who know me know that I am complex. I come off quite blunt and harsh and at the surface that is who I am. Those inner layers that are so well protected and rarely seen are from my mother. I guard them as they are precious. It's now all that I have left of her - and the occasional smile or twinkle in my daughter's eyes.
She was a religious person - I am not. Ironically, it was her faith and condition that provided the falling out of my own. She has been ill for years, decades! How could someone with such devotion be rewarded so poorly? Obviously her beliefs were in vain. So I let go of mine - I was angry, I was confused, I was frustrated. Over time, as I got older and observed the world around us and the human condition, the lack of character and hypocrisy amongst those who preached the "love" the most, I realized for myself that the emotions that took me to the place of being agnostic logically and intellectually developed into who I am today, an athiest.
I was speaking with my four year old son yesterday morning. We were laying upside down on my bed just relaxing before beginning our day. He knew Grandma was at the hospital a few days prior and that I rushed to take care of her. He asked how she was and I told him that Grandma had died. We put our dog down a month ago and lost a couple chickens a few months prior to that so he has some concept of death. As much, I would suppose, a four year old can.
He asked where she was and I paused and explained this gets pretty complicated but that there are different ideas of what happens after someone dies. Some think that they a born again as a new baby and grow and have a new life. Some believe they go to a special place where they have nothing but happiness. Some people think they are just gone and that it. Then he asked if she was walking. My mother hasn't walked in 23 years - I told him with a huge smile on my face, "Yes, Grandma is walking, baby."