Qi Revolution

This weekend I attended a four-day seminar - Qi Revolution.  It was an amazing experience. We did breathing exercises, moving Qi through our bodies with a combination of breath control, postures, and hand movements; we also did a brief bit of strength training, and sat through lectures on topics like nutrition and sacred geometry.  It was all quite fascinating, and I was very energized the whole time I was there.  I also got to see Yaw again, this time for a happy experience.  He came up for the funeral, and while I greatly appreciated having him there, it wasn't exactly a happy experience. 

The most amazing experience I had this weekend actually happened on the very first day, and while everything I saw and experienced blew my mind, this blew my soul.  We were instructed to lie on our yoga mats and were led through our first breathing exercise - Empowering Breath. During the exercise, the instructor took us through a visualization; towards the end, he instructed us to imagine pulling up and away from the Earth until we were looking down at her from outer space.  When I did this, I thought, "Mom, is this what you see?"  My answer came, but not with words or pictures in my mind.  Instead, I was suddenly wrapped in the most comfortable warmth I have ever felt, and I felt her arms around me, holding me like I was a child.  

It was the most beautiful thing I have ever felt, and I am deeply grateful to have experienced it. 

Tonight at dinner, Dad asked me what I took away from the weekend (hoping I would be able to use it to make more money with my massage business). I started telling him about all the breathing exercises and lectures, and I told him about the visit from Mom.  He accepted that well, saying that he and Mom both always believed I picked up my Grandmother Jenny's psychic ability.  

But the rest of the time, he smiled and nodded at me the way you do when you're trying not to upset a crazy person by telling them how crazy they are.  Sigh.  

Reminders

Lots of little reminders sneaked into my consciousness yesterday and today. Things Mom loved were all over the place.  

My friend (and boss), Samantha, moved into a new house and I visited there today. We walked around her property looking at all the trees and flower beds.  She had a number of azalea bushes and crepe myrtle trees, some hydrangeas, and I found a surprise wild rose bush tucked into a nook in a shrubbery ring out in the field. Driving home this afternoon, a brilliant male cardinal flew across the driveway in front of me. I drove past one of Mom's favorite restaurants. I heard some music she loved (big band).  I also heard some music she hated; ironically, that's the one that brought some tears. 

I guess it doesn't matter what actually gives me the release, as long as it comes.  I still need the big one to hit so I can really move on, but I guess I should just be patient with myself.  Grief has a schedule of its own, and it doesn't care if that schedule works for me. 

I miss my Mom.   

Deepest Love

At Mom's memorial service, Dad spoke some of the most beautiful words I have ever been blessed to hear.  They made everyone tear up (including quite a few big, strong men), and some of us wept uncontrollably.  His words were brief; they were spoken spontaneously, and came from the depths of his soul. He didn't even remember what he said, and later when we repeated them to him, he still didn't remember speaking them.  Here's the best I can do to repeat his beautiful words: 

"God saw fit to loan me this beautiful woman, Rose, for just 53 years, one month and one day, to love and to cherish and to protect. And I did that the best I knew how. I have to send her back to Him now, and I pray that He does the same for her."

May everyone in the world share a love as deep as theirs.  

Eulogy for Queen Rose

Today, we sent away Queen Rose, my Mother, with much love and respect.  These are the words I squeakily spoke in remembrance of her. 

We were all rotten kids.  Except when we were being the surprise angels, showing her love in unexpected moments: the home made card, the scrawled picture of two blobs connected by a line where someone else wrote, “I love you, Mommy;” the fly-by hug on the way to play with friends; the tiny frog brought in to show her, which then leapt from tiny hands into her freshly poured glass of RC cola.  Rotten kids. 

She had her hands full with us, and it was a beautiful thing.  I don’t have any specific stories to tell, only impressions of the feelings I had – brief glimpses of this moment or that adventure, but not really a whole story to tell.  I can say there was always love. No matter what was happening, no matter what we had done, her actions were driven by love.

 

And that love manifested in more ways than just how she raised her children.  She showed her love in art, as you can see here in this room; she showed her love in music, and if you never sat with her while she hummed along with the radio, I feel very badly for you; she showed her love in the kitchen, with every meal she made - with whatever she could scrape together (a lack of ingredients could be easily overcome);  she showed her love in words – teaching her children to speak clearly so we would be understood; and she showed her love in acts of kindness – always willing to help someone in need. 

I can’t give you specific memories of my Queen Rose, but I can tell you what I feel, and what I have always felt, when I think of her name, her face, her voice.  I think of Love.