Soup to Nuts
Some people ask why I still talk about my mother, when its clear to the world that she’s not coming back into my life. Many think it odd that I sent her a case of soup for her 70th birthday. But in truth, I always sent Mom food. She loved little packets of Indian curry, or other epicurean delights that I sent to her during my adult years. And if not her, then her dogs certainly ate well. So, when I found her PO box address recently, I sent her a case of soup. Something my daughters loved. And a note inside saying it was from them for her birthday. She sent it back. Priority mail. Apparently she couldn’t get rid of “me” fast enough, she had to pay for express shipping.
Of course there are tears and moments of mourning as the hidden hope that one day she’ll find a way to let me and my family back into her heart for reasons we will never know why we ever left. But in truth, it really has become more of a metaphor than anything else. And that’s why I still talk about her .. and the pain … and the loss … and the insanity of it all. Because when I can talk about my experience of suffering and bring light to it in a very open and honest way, it not only goes a long way to healing the swiss cheese moments of my past, but it provides a model (as dysfunctional as it may be) for each of us to look at what it is that we want to heal. Even when healing is not possible in the way we had hoped it would be.
It brings us full circle when we can hold our broken hearts in the palm of our hand, after wearing them on our sleeve for so long. When we can love our Self in all of our insanity and know that we are worthy of that Love, then we can shift from any form of outside validation we may have been seeking and experience the Bliss of our own outpouring of compassion. We are the candle that we are searching for in the dark. And when we recognize that, and we let our heartlight shine in front of us … then we need not look back to the path that we left behind in order to see where it is that we need to go or what it is we need to let go of that weighs us down.
A young monk once saw The Buddha crying after the death of a young disciple and asked … If you understand about the true nature of things, why is it you are crying? And the Buddha replied .. What better reason could there be for tears?
Even though I still miss her and find tears in my eyes from time to time, I am genuinely at peace if not with the loss, then most certainly with the process of healing. There are many things I have had to learn to live without, as I manage life with a chronic illness. But there are so many more things that I have to be grateful for. And I can hold my hands out to embrace them all. From soup to nuts … ♥
