About 2 years ago I went through the most painful and heartbreaking time of my life. My beloved mother, about whom I felt very deeply, passed away suddenly. My brother and I had the very distressing duty of breaking up the family home of over 40 years. It was a beautiful home about which I have the most tender feelings. When I went back there after the funeral I had a great urge to simply lock the door and leave the place intact. It seemed a sacrilege to disturb this place that had been her home for so long. Everything inside those walls reflected the beauty and graciousness of the woman we had just lain to rest. And yet, as we started to take pictures from the walls, and to pack away the fine old China and linens she has so treasured, I could see that these things were not my mother, or even OF my mother. They simply reflected the qualities in her that had made her so beloved by all who knew her. These were material things that somehow lost much of their meaning with her passing. Many of these items, because of necessity found their way into other less hospitable places, but, in spite of my original feelings, this really doesn't matter for my mother left to those who knew her so much more than these items of cloth and metal and wood. She left goodness and hope and faith; understanding and love, and what is the price tag on these? When I leave this world behind, it is my sincere hope that I can leave to others, in a spiritual sense, as much as has been passed on by my mother.
No comments:
Post a Comment