Our Blueprint
When I last wrote it was to give Mom voice. My way to somehow piece together her physical pain and emotional turmoil. Her death journey. I felt helpless. Hadn’t I gained experience of how to cope with death from my husband Harry’s? Shouldn’t that give me some leverage? It took some time but I realize I wasn’t helpless when they were dying. More importantly, they weren’t either. Death isn’t really any different than life. One day at a time using whatever you have and yield to love. The experience I gained wasn’t about death. Death doesn’t teach you. It strips you of every power you thought you hid safely in your Denial Pocket . Powers useless at such a time. Love dangles in front of our noses when a loved one is dying. We can either turn away or hug the hell out of it. Anger and resentment also try to distract us. Neither of those feelings heal the pain we go through. Mom and Harry both had charms of a four-leaf clover— they never said “Uncle”. Never wanted to appear helple...