Like You…

family mother and child daughter hugs and warm on winter evening by fireplace

Dear Mom,

Today is Day 13 of the 21 Days of Abundance Challenge (as prescribed by Deepak Chopra0. The assignement asks for me to think about the description I wrote about you a few days ago (from Day 11 and 12) and then consider my own life and my own patterns of behaviour.

The questions I am asked to reflect on are:

  1. Do you see some similarities between you and your mom
  2. and What are they and how were they formed?

Whooh. I just took a shallow breath in but a deep exhale out. I might need to do that again, trying for a deeper breath in this time.

I would say that is one little thing we had in common. I think you also breathed in shallow, or that you didn’t take as many opportunities to breathe deep into yourself. I could be wrong, and perhaps you did do this many times in those mornings you spent hours in meditation in Khane.

I just remember almost hearing and feeling a shallowness in your breathing that often worried me. I don’t breathe deeply myself. But there are a few different reasons for that, I think, which I won’t go into right now.

Other things that are similar between you and me:

I like tea- because of you. I don’t like drinking cold water.  It feels like a jolt to my system. And I remember you telling me it isn’t good for our bodies. I agree. Thanks, Mom.

I like warmth or coziness in general- blankets, warm socks, slippers and comfy sweatshirts or leggings when I am at home. I also like warm voices, and warm energy from people I am around. I think were like that too in terms of your preference, though I think you preferred not to wear any thick socks on your feet.

Guess what, mom? I do so many things now that are like you that I didn’t even realize until the last few years. I pile my clean laundry in neat stacks on the futon that you had. The same futon you used to pile your granddaughters’ clothes just in case they might need an extra pair of underwear, socks, shirts or pants when they came over.

My pile is just my own clothes. Eventually, they make their way to my closet. But I think I keep them out on the futon a little longer these days to try to feel what you may have felt when you did the same.

I also got rid of my little garbage can in the kitchen a year or more ago. I realized that, like you, I was never using it. I didn’t like the idea of garbage piling up in it and smelling the underneath of my kitchen sink, the cabinet where I had put the garbage bin. So I always use a plastic bag hanging off one of the handles of a kitchen drawer, as my garbage bag. No bin needed. That is definitely a Laila move. 🙂

I am walking around my apartment with my slippers off of my heels. I do that with a lot of my shoes- getting lazy about putting the back of the shoe over my heels and getting my whole foot in. I think for you this was more of a convenience because you probably had a harder time reaching down to get your heel in. I do that too a lot of the times, and I have seen your eldest granddaughter do this often too. I will see if it trickles down to your youngest granddaughter as well. Now, when my shoes are laid out, you can see a dip or bend in the back top part of the heel where my foot crushed that part down instead of going into the shoe. Oops.

I like birds, and watching them- more so because of you and Mama. But I do. I take my time with things too. I like moving slowly even though I envy people who can do things sharply and quickly. But it doesn’t feel comfortable for me. I know you were like that too. I found out that that is probably because we are both heavily governed by the Earth Element according to the Chinese Medicine system of personality types. I am sure you were more Earth than any of the other five elements, and suprisingly, from my scores on some quizzes I took to determine my dominant element, I am more Earth as well.

Earth’s are compassionate, caring, mothering, and love to bring people together. I would say that describes you more than me. I mean, I am caring and compassionate, and I worry about things and people like I am sure you did. But you were the ultimate mother figure. I am a giver, but nothing compared to you. I can be cute, but never as cute as you. And my worries sometimes led me to confusion and an inability to act. Whereas, your worrying made you act on things to make sure that everyone around you was safe and protected, included and loved.

You were definitely way more courageous than I am. Although you didn’t come across as an arguer or someone who got into people’s faces with your opinions, you definitely spoke up when it was needed. You stood your ground, you fought for what was right and good for your loved ones, and I am still trying to learn from that, to find that within me.

You gave more than you had most of the time. I would say that I am not that giving. I mean, when I have less, I panic, and hold onto what I have because of fear that I will lose it or fear from projecting ahead to the worst case scenario what-ifs. You didn’t do that. You actually demonstrated true abundance by letting things go- trinkets, money, love, energy, time- because somewhere deep down inside, you knew, or maybe your subconscious knew- that living and giving was more important. Even when you had very little, you didn’t complain about it or go into any panic mode or hoard what you did have. You still gave, which makes me again so humbled by your great example of abundance. You just had to believe it was there in order to give as much as you did without fear, without selfishness, without hesitancy.

I have only had moments of that, and then I stumble again and hang on to too much or worry too much or grieve what is lost rather than live what is in front of me.

I think we both feel a lot for others. But again, when you did, you were able to push through it and DO what was needed to help those people. I, on the otherhand, get tongued tied or scared or freeze in times of worry or emergency.

I would have really not made a good doctor, Mom. I know you were hoping your kids would maybe go in that direction in their careers, but it was definitely not something I should be doing. I hate hospitals (like you- haha), and blood and I can get absent minded which helps my creative side but would not be good for medical care.

But in all seriousness, another really important quality I think we share is our inability to ask for what we want, for fear of being a burden to others. I think part of it comes from us wanting to be self-sufficent, and independent, and being a little stubborn. We both try to pretend we can handle more than we can (Well, maybe you really could. But in your case, you shouldn’t have had to). I think burn out can be a real thing, and can manifest in our bodies and cause issues with our health.

But somewhere, somehow, we learned that we had to do it ourselves, that asking for help was somehow weak. Or maybe when we did ask for help, it wasn’t done in the way or with the values that we would have liked. So… we thought it was better done ourselves than to rely on others.

We also really love kids. I do, even though I don’t have any myself. But it is a big reason I became a teacher. I think you were more the nurturer of kids- you liked giving them a feeling of home and unconditional love. I am more a believer of kids’ incredible ability to be whoever and whatever they want. And I think I try to foster this in them as much as I can. Maybe because I appreciate all those in my life who instilled that faith in myself in me as well.

I think a big difference between us though is that I spend a lot of time self nurturing and getting back to myself because I need it and think it is important, and I wish that you had done more of that for yourself. But I also know that perhaps your Earth element was so strong in you that you got more energized and joyful and felt much more at peace when you were giving to others rather than yourself. I just still wish that I had given more to you to make up for all of your giving. I wish that you had someone in your life that was nurturing, supporting and loving you unconditionally as you did for us. That’s an area that I have not reached. You were the ultimate in that.

I guess that the similarities and differences between us were partly formed in that despite us being mother and daughter, we were still individuals with different paths to lead and different personalities. Some of my own being independent probably came from me watching you do things on your own and being so independent that I thought that was just the way we were supposed to be. But on the flip side, seeing you do so much for others, and rarely taking as much care of yourself, may have made me go a little too far to other extreme of distancing myself from family sometimes so that I can make sure I do have “me” time and get back to me and take care of me.

Strangely enough, many of my motivations- as far as getting a job and having a career, and working hard and being serious with what I was doing and where I wanted to get to with it- came from me wanting to give you a good and better life. To take care of you and take the burden off of you of doing so much. But somewhere along the line, things didn’t go the way that I thought. And I am ashamed to say in the midst of all that, I somehow forgot the big picture of what I was trying to do, without even realizing that I let my focus get sidetracked.

Now, I am trying to do what will make you proud, what will make your life and your giving us life, worthy of you and all you stand for. But I guess I am also trying to do that recognizing that we are different people and I will need to do this in a way that is right for me as well, so that I can find and follow through with my life purpose.

I just know that will not ever be separate from you. I won’t let it be. Again, that is not to hang onto to you or hold you back from your soul’s journey. But just to say that you and I are connected, Mom. And I want to stay connected because, as the sign under my window sill says, “Just one lifetime won’t be enough for us.” At least I know it won’t be for me. I need you, Mom, and I thank you for all that you have given me- your lessons, your example, your caring and your strength.

Love always and forever,  Tas

 

 

 

Born into Abundance

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Dear Mom,

I have been wanting to tell you so much lately. The world is crazy right now- with a virus that is making so many people sick everywhere- the Corona Virus. I don’t even know where it got its name. But people are in fear, people are sad, people have lost their jobs, people are isolating themselves to help make sure this virus doesn’t spread more than it has to, and there aren’t many peope at all on the streets. Everyone has been sent home, asked to stay home, and people are connecting more to what is important, I think.

During this time, when this first all started, I had received a message from a friend of mine – an invitation to join a 21 Days of Abundance group over Whatsapp. It’s based on Deepak Chopra’s teachings and his meditations. Yeah, I guess I meditate. Not very well, but it seems to creep more and more into my life. Anyway, I accepted,  thinking it would just be a series of inspiring exercises. Turns out that the exercises led to me forming my own group, as this was one of the tasks on day 5, and boy has that been quite a great lesson for me. To learn how to lead, to make some decisions that I might not otherwise put myself in charge of. And to connect with friends from all over who I haven’t been in touch with for awhile.

Some people dropped out of my group, some people enthusiastically joined and are really inspiring me.

And I am still in the group that is led by the friend who started me on this journey in the first place. Today is Day 11 for me in that group, and it is all about the Law of Least Effort. That we don’t need to work as hard or struggle as much as we were maybe programmed to believe in order to achieve our dreams. That abundance is more about getting aligned with the flow of things so that we can achieve our desires with ease.

I am not sure how it relates yet, but the assignment for this Day asks us to describe our mom. There are a few questions or guidelines, to follow. I thought instead of just writing this down on a piece of paper, I would write it to you here:

20200321_164747The positive aspects of my mom- everything about my mom was and is positive. She is kind, sweet, thoughtful, the most generous person I know. She is cute, soft, funny, has the smoothest skin, values simplicity and the little things, liked watching TV, especially her Hindi movies, and is the best mother I could have ever asked for.

She is nurturing, knows how to make everything better, is strong, a fighter, a giver, and so so loyal. She inspires me to never give up, she inspires me to always listen, to be generous, to be humble, to be grateful, to love unconditionally, to notice when people are feeling left out or sad, to not follow the crowd. She inspires me to be the best that I can, to make her proud, to support family, to be honest, to smile, to laugh, to let some things roll off of my shoulders. She inspires me to be strong and to fight for what I believe in. She inspires me to remember family values, to have faith, to enjoy silences, to take my time, to love myself, to not overcomplicate things, to nap, and give thanks. To bless God, to pray, to believe, to move mountains, and also stay in place without having to do something to be. She inspires me to just be. To not judge myself. To help others, and to let go of things that might otherwise bring me down, frighten me or cause me pain.

Her limitations- she honestly doesn’t and didn’t have any. Anything that my mother did or said that in that moment might not have made sense to me or confused me or frustrated me for awhile, I now get. I now understand why she reacted the way she did. She was right about everything. I am not saying this to be kind or to cover up her flaws. It just is what it is. She was right. She was hurting sometimes, and hadn’t let it out. So I might not have understood some of her behaviours that resulted from that. But they were not limitations. She was trying to be strong and not burden us with her pain or fear or sorrow. That takes courage, and will power and so much strength. It is not a limitation. But I wish my mother cut herself more slack. I wish she was as kind and generous and giving and unconditionally loving to herself as she was to us. I wish I had been that way to her. She didn’t have limitations. But she gave to everyone more than herself. I feel like I was the one who was displaying limitations in my inability to to give to her the way I feel I should have. I guess I wish she had practising receiving more. But maybe she just wasn’t given to enough to do that. Maybe I also wish she had made more use of the things given to her instead of keeping them aside for another day.

IMG_20200321_183950_975What did I learn from her?- Everything. Compassion, courage, humility, the beauty of simplicity, how to give and give and give. I learned strength, loyalty, nurturing and the power of a mother’s touch from her. I learned how short life is from my mother. And I learned the power of grief from her passing. I also am learning the power love to cross any boundaries, including death.

What brings us or brought us together?- an ambilical cord. Haha. Her mother. Tea. Definitely tea. Her granddaughters. My brother. Birds. Songs. Music. Simplicity. Food. Especially the sweet kind. Samosas. Chocolate. Kit Kat. Love. Lots and Lots of Love. Fear, sometimes. But then again, maybe fear kept me further from her on some days. Fear of losing her, fear of seeing her age. Fear of her worrying about me when I was not feeling well. Her stories about Khane brought us together. Faith brought us together. Our tenderness brought us together. Our earth element personalities brought us together. Clothes, especially tbe bright or silky ones, brought us together. Our femininity brought us together. Shopping, the mall and our petite size brought us together. Our hearts and soul connections brought us and keep us together. Pain and loss brought us together but also at first seemed to tear us apart.

What separates/separated or distances/distanced us? Misunderstandings, death, holding in emotions, fear, sadness, love, society, cultural expectations or pressures, prejudice, my not setting my priorities straight, my lack of physical strength, my lack of courage, my lack of self confidence, my fears of others, my fear of myself. My guilt, my shame, my sorrow, my regret, my anger (never towards her but towards situations and other people around our lives).

My mother taught me what a sense of home is. It is with her, and in her presence, in her energy that I feel at home. We are all being sent home during this time of the Corona Virus pandemic. So I am just trying to connect back to where and what my mom is.

Mom, I won’t believe that I have lost you. And if I have temporarily, I will find you. I know it can’t be the physical you. But I am being sent home to find the values and lessons and love that you taught me, and instilled in me. And I am going to reach them so deeply and embody them with all that I can. I was already blessed with the ultimate abundance in having you as a mom. I will just keep sitting in that more, and sharing it with others.

This is not truly my 11th day of abundance, nor have there only be or will there only be 21. There have been all those days since I had you as a mom. The day you first gave birth to me, or even nine months before then when I was first in your belly. Abundance started then. I was born into it, and by it, literally. And I am not going to waste it.

“I expect and accept abundance to flow easily to me.”

~ Deepak Chopra

Thanks for teaching me about Abundance, Mom, whether you knew it or not, right from Day 1 of my time here on earth.

Love Tas

 

 

 

 

Layla by Eric Clapton

Hi Mom,

 

I was talking to someone about you a couple of weeks ago near my place. I think I was saying the usual broken record stuff about how I’m not sure that I feel you. I don’t know if the signs are you. I don’t know if you are okay. (Yeah, I am still on that track. Sorry. It’s hard though, you know).

But then I walk into Shoppers Drug Mart just after that talk, and as I am walking in, I must have sort of in the back of my head asked you or the universe if you are okay, and guess which song came on?

Layla, by Eric Clapton. So as far as I know, you did not know of Clapton or that song when you were here physically. It doesn’t seem like your kind of music. Haha. But… it’s the only song I am aware of that has the name Laila or Layla in it that could possible be played in a store like that. Though, it would have been awesome if Laila oh Laila the Hindi Bollywood song came on. That would have freaked me out, but in a really great way. Can you make things like that happen?

Anyway, I smiled. I mean, I really, really smiled, because I got another little taste of this feeling of happiness, hope, possible peace and relief that maybe that was from you.  I don’t know. I should know though, right? I mean, should I just believe without a doubt, and feel and hang onto that emotion until my mind and body believe without a doubt?

I’ve been reading a book about this- You Are the Placebo- by Dr. Joe Dispenza. It’s about how when we align our emotions to a future event or occurrence that we want to have happen, our body thinks it is already happening, so it makes the shift as if it is in that future. That is the placebo without a placebo pill. We can create that in our own bodies, says this doctor. I believe that to such a deep extent medically. Though in your case, when you were in the hospital, I feel like you weren’t given a chance to do this. How can that work when you are sedated and can’t see, hear or talk? That just kills me inside. That thought.

But I need to stop focusing on that thought, and put myself in the emotion and thought that you are still with me. That you are giving me signs along the way. And hopefully, you are getting a little frustrated with me not fully believing, but in a funny way. I am trying to believe mom.

The lines in the Clapton song that seemed so fitting are:

“Layla, you got me on my knees Layla. I’m begging darling please, Laila. Darling won’t you ease my wary mind.”

It’s the wary mind I’m trying to sort out. My own, that is.

I walked to the post office connected to Shoppers just as the song was ending.  I was there making photocopies of some passages from another book I was reading at that time- Through My Eyes, by Gordon Smith.  Here I was- with the proof in my hands- from the words of this Medium. Exactly what I wanted confirmation of, he gives in his book. That there is life after death, that we don’t really die, and that souls speak to one another. That our loved ones are okay and they are speaking to us without words.

I ended up telling the lady working at the post office about the Clapton song and about you. And she was in tears. She ended up sharing with me that her mom passed away, and she too misses her very much. For all the times I went into that post office, I never knew any of this about this woman. Thank you for connecting us. Can you do that too? Connect me to people who can either help me or I can help them in some way? I always wonder about that.

I told the woman about the book I had with me, and I left her a copy of one of the first stories in it.

She told me that there is a woman who comes to the post office on and off who seems to be clairvoyant or is it clairsencient?  Anyway, supposedly, she passed on some messages to the lady at the post office that were quite accurate. This clairvoyant woman also said that there are many spirits in the building where Shoppers is located, specifically in the post office and down at the other end of the complex where there is a big dollar shop. It used to be a movie theater. I remember that theater, actually.

But yeah, it didn’t sound spooky or haunted or ridiculous what she said. It actually made me feel hopeful, and curious about which spirits around us and where. And I like the idea that those souls who have passed away can still be looking out for us. And that maybe they have particular favorite spots they like to hang out it. Haha.

It gives me a picture of their lightness, their playfulness, their carefree and happy nature. Their peace and their everlasting love and energy.

I want to feel that from you. That you are happy, free, at peace, and having the time of your… well, after-life. 🙂

Love you, Mom, forever and ever.

Morning Prayer- 4 Years Now

 

prayerDear Mom,

I still have really bad nightmares about you. I had one just this morning. You weren’t happy, and I also now feel like you’re not happy with me. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I feel this way or dream these things. It really hurts my heart and makes the morning and getting up so confusing and heartbreaking.

I wish I had a sign that you were okay, and that you were also more than okay with me.

Sorry I am having these thoughts. It feels sad, like I am changing our relationship now somehow. I know we were very close. I know that you loved me so dearly and sweetly, like no one else could. And I loved and still love you with all my heart and soul. I just can’t figure out what this bad feeling is, where it is coming from, and how to shake it off or fix it.

I will try to concentrate on my morning prayers to you, which are still going, even now, four years later. The lines or questions have grown a little more. I realized I had more to ask of you and the universe. I hope you don’t mind. Here it goes:

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Hi Mom,

What are we going to do today?

Where are we going to go?

What are we going to do?

What are we going to say?

What are we going to believe?

What are we going to achieved?

What are we going to have the courage for?

Who are we going to help?

Who are we going to inspire?

What are we going to give away?

What are we going to hang on to?

What are we going to cherish?

What are we going to choose?

What are we going to stand up for?

What are we going to cry over?

What are we going to laugh through?

What are we going to create?

What are we going to paint?

What are we going to sing?

What are we going to dance?

What are we going to write about?

What are we going to dream?

What are we going to read?

What are we going to practise?

What are we going to play?

What are we going to perform?

Who are we going to date?

Who are we not going to date?

Who are we going to kiss?

Who are we not going to kiss?

Who are we going to love?

Who are we going to let love us?

What are we going to teach?

What are we going to learn?

And one I just made up: What are we going to pray for?

wishing

I always start my morning prayer with you. Before all these questions, I ask God and the Universe to take care of you. It goes like this. I say these words as soon as I wake up and before I am even out of bed:

Thank you for waking me up for another day

Please take care of my mom, please take care of my mom, please take care of my mom. 

Then I name all the people in the family individually who I am, or we were, closest to. And I ask that they be taken cared of.

And then I end off with Please take care of my mom, please take care of my mom, please take care of my mom, again.

I’ll be saying this prayer until I am with you again, Mom.

God Bless You, as you would always say.

I miss you so much.

 

Where should we go?

dream travel

Hi Mom,

I had a dream last night or this morning that I was at some event. It looked like an Indian or maybe even Ismaili function. I just remember seeing some clothes that looked a little Indian-like, and that smell- you know the one?- Of chai and sweets and maybe even uger baathi (incense).  Anyway, I don’t even know what I was doing there.

But in front of this plain white door was laying this outfit, on the floor. It didn’t look like something I recognized of yours. But at the same time, I don’t know how to explain it, but I felt as if you had just been in it. As if you’d been wearing it. But then you kind of disappeared out of it. Like your physical form just left it and it lay on the ground not in a pile, but almost in the position it would be in if you had been sitting in it and leaning against the wall or door it was in front of.

It was an Indian outfit. Pale blue and white, I think. Light fabric. Maybe some little sequins on it.

Then, out of nowhere, you appeared. Not in the outfit, but just watching me look at the outfit. I stared at it with such sadness. You could probably see that. And I might have even asked around, wondering where the outfit came from and why it was there.

But then you were behind me. I don’t know what you were wearing. But you looked sad too, I think.  But you looked at me as if it was normal for you to be there, right near me. And I was kind of in shock and didn’t know what to do.  I knew you were not alive anymore, but as usual in my dreams, it felt as if you didn’t know this. And I never want to tell you or say anything about it in my dream. So I don’t know.

And instead, I just waited for you to say something. And you looked at me and said, “I miss you. Can we go somewhere after this?”

I cried. And I’m still crying at the thought of it as I write this to you.  I didn’t want to wait until after the event was over. I wanted to say why don’t we go now?  But I think I just cried in my dream and then woke up crying.

I don’t want you to miss me so much that you’d be so sad.  I don’t want you to be sad. And I know you don’t want me to be sad either. So I guess I can only try to turn this around and say, I miss you too, Mom.  You have no idea.

And I would have gone anywhere with you.  I wonder where you’d have wanted to go. To eat, to a different city or continent? For a drive or a walk? Or just to your home somewhere?

I’d like to imagine or pretend we could go somewhere together. Where should we go? Your choice. I want to take you anywhere you want to go.

Thanks for coming into my dream. Don’t be sad though, Mom.  I think I remember you had your hair done nicely in the dream.  That made me smile. That you were somehow still dressing up for any events, even if they were just to show up in dreams.

Vicks

mother and daughter6

Dear Mom,

I think I suddenly got some sort of cold. I was fine yesterday, but then at the end of the night and this morning, I felt so tired, with a runny nose, and a bit of a scratchiness and cough in my throat.

I reached for the Vick Vapo Rub of course.  It’s strange how such a small bottle, and the smell from it, can bring back so much sweetness, and love but also sadness and sorrow.

Vicks, and just that smell, makes me think of how I had such a loving mom- you- who took care of me when I was sick, no matter what age I was.  Even though I got frustrated over you “babying” me at those times, God, what I wouldn’t do to have you do that for me again.

I am sorry if I ever gave you a hard time over caring the way you did. It was such gift I was given- to have you as a mom, to have you take the time to rub Vicks on my throat and forehead and nose.  And your hands. Vicks conjures up the feel and look of your beautiful, soft hands, oozing love through every finger. Giving me your healing and warmth and motherly magic.

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So I wish I could go back to those days, to appreciate them more. And more than that, I wish I could go back to them to tell you how very much they meant to me, how much you meant to me, and still do. And I wish I could give you back that same tenderness, and caring and time.  You spent so much time with me- as much as was needed to help me through, especially when I got sick.

The soups, the hurder (tumeric), and blankets, and tea and your hand on my forehead. Everything soothed me right into my core, into my heart. And so when I think of you lying there in the hospital, and me not being able to give you back that soothing and comfort, it tears me apart.

Vicks brings me back a warmth and smiles- the tenderest of memories of the most love I received, and will receive, from any human being ever. But it also breaks my heart and brings me to tears because that love is gone. Or the love isn’t gone, but the touches and what I can see and hear- your voice unlike no other and the words you chose that no one else could. Even the way you said my name.

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The thought of if already brings a ache in my throat. And this is not from a cold, but from grief. From anger, from pain, from losing you. But mostly from not being able to help you the way you helped me. I am so sorry, Mom.  I wish I could have brought you a bottle of Vicks and put my hand on your forehead, and make everything magically better, the way you always were able to do for me.

I keep being told you are no longer in pain.  But the people who tell me this are here, alive. So how do they know what you are going through? I need to see and feel it for myself.  Please give me more signs.  I still, after 3 and a half years, don’t feel it- your peace.

Please reach out and tell me or show me that you are okay.  Please.

YOUR favor

live-life-as-if-its-in-your-favor

I used to love this kind of thinking, and I can believe it for myself. I mean, right from the start, everything WAS rigged in my favor. I got you as a mom. That is absolute proof right there.

And I still experience so much goodness, and “luck” and beautiful happenings that make me feel so grateful and loved.

But what makes me angry is that I feel like everything wasn’t rigged in your favor. That’s what I wanted.  Because you deserved everything in your favor more than anyone else.  It makes me so sad how the string of events, especially at the end of your life, felt like they were completely opposite to being in your favor. Why did it happen like this?

Why to you? You deserved everything going your way. You helped all of us stay safe, loved, and cared for.  It should have been given back to you many times over.

Maybe there is so much in this that I don’t see, that this was all for the good of you, that there were things behind the scenes that were happening that were for the best, the best for you. But I don’t see it. And I don’t know if or when I ever will. Because we just don’t know. We just didn’t know.

And I’m sorry I didn’t know, Mom. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to turn things around for you.  I wish I did. I wish I still could.

I hope that somehow, everything is so rigged in your favor now that you are enjoying every moment, peacefully, happily, without any pain, without any worry, without any struggle. Just lightness, just love, just sweetness and warmth and safety. Forever taken cared of. It is how you made me feel, how your love made me feel, always. It still is.

Little Rookie

Dear Mom,

I had a t-shirt that said “Little Rookie” on it. Why do I remember that? I barely remember anything from my childhood. But that, for some reason, has stuck out to me for all these years.

I don’t remember exactly what the t-shirt looked like. I imagine it to be kind of a Tom-boyish t-shirt. Something sporty like a character riding a bike or playing soccer on it.  Or maybe I am just making that part up.  I don’t know. But I do know that the words “Little Rookie” were definitely sprawled across the front of it.

I am assuming you bought that t-shirt for me.  Do you remember where you got it? Zellers? 🙂  It was around that age, I think, when you worked at Zellers.  What was that like, being there at work?  Who did you work with? Sam Uncle?  Did you like going to work every day?  Were there regular customers who knew you?  What was your favorite part of the job?  What did you really hate about it?  Why did I never ask you these questions while you were here? Maybe I did, but things have become so cloudy for me.  I know you also used to say that you wished you could remember more about our childhood and growing up.  But you had a lot to do, Mom.  That was too much to remember.

Besides, it is not the details of the days that passed that were important. It was the feeling. And I want you to know that you always made us feel loved and taken cared of.  I know you went to work each day to take care of us. I know you wanted to spend that time with us more.  But you were an extraordinary mom. You did everything- you were the breadwinner, the nurturer, the caretaker, the father, the protector, the cook and the teacher. You taught us a lot, mom, through your actions, through your love, through your energy. The kind of energy only a loving mother could give.

That has stuck with me, and will continue to stick with me forever. There were some words you used as nicknames for me. One of them was “Rook”.  Was that some kind of term of endearment used in our culture? Or where did it come from?  I was going to say What does it mean. But sometimes, a meaning like a definition doesn’t seem so necessary when a feeling comes across from it more strongly. Sometimes, the feeling is more important. So “Rook” took on its own meaning to me.  I could feel the love and tenderness you were putting across through the word or name. It made me feel very special. It had a special quality to it.

So the combination of that and the Little Rookie t-shirt made Rookie stand out in my mind and heart a lot.  You calling me “Rook” didn’t have anything to do with the t-shirt did it? Or did you buy the t-shirt because you called me “Rook”?  I am assuming it was only a coincidence.

But it stayed with me. That word. And the phrase “Little Rookie”.  So much so that in the past, I was using it for several years for passwords on various accounts I signed up for online.  It’s funny how these things get embedded without us knowing it, right?

And so… the other day, when I was driving and again was struck by the license plate I noticed on another parked car (you know by now, this has been happening to me often), you can understand even more now why I wondered.  I wondered if you again had anything to do with it. Or maybe the Universe planted it there to pass on a message from you to me.

The license plate said ROOKIE.

I stared at it and then, as I have done in the past, I went around the corner and came back to that car. Stopped in a place where I could get out of my car and could take a picture of the plate.  It was like I wanted to show it to someone. To have “proof” that it really showed up.  But then I wanted to ask someone if it was just a coincidence or a real sign. And I had no one to ask. No one that I would believe maybe anyway, because how would they prove that they knew?

I guess, once again, it’s all about belief. What we want to believe and what we don’t want to believe.

I don’t know what I believe in these situations anymore. But what I do know, and I’ve said this before, is that I will just break myself down if I don’t believe in something, in these possible moments of magic, between me, and you and the Universe.

Will I ever know the answers even at the end of my life? I am trying to live my life for you, Mom. But I can’t help with all the questions.  I hope one day, there are answers, and the answers prove that all these ‘coincidences’ I see and feel have not been coincidences at all. But just proof that my mom is happy and at peace. And that a mother’s love never dies. And my mom just wanted to sparkle each of my days with a little message from her telling me that she is somewhere beautiful, being taken cared of. So there is nothing for me to worry about.

Love always, your Little Rookie- Rook (Ruk, or Ruku) You always had variations on it. And I loved them all.

Tas

 

Journey Ring

Dear Mom,

20161011_173351Remember this ring you bought me?  You bought it from that jewelry shop that used to be at Park Royal- the North side of the mall.  Boy, that mall has totally changed since you’ve been gone. Sometimes, I really hate the changes.  Too much changes and then I feel I’ve lost places I could go to to conjure up more memories or feelings from when we use to just hang out at malls or restaurants. I know the memories should just stay with me, but I feel like the changes just remind me more that you’re gone.  And that is not something I need more reminders of.

At least I have this ring. So… you actually bought me a gold ring with an amethyst jewel in the center.  You knew that amethyst was my birthstone? Or was that just coincidence?  Well, I have such slender fingers. So do you, so DID you. 😦  But maybe not as small as mine. So I think what happened was that you brought the ring home for me and it was too big?  That’s when we went out to the shop to resize the ring.  And while we were telling the sales guy what we wanted, you must have put on the ring, on your own hand.  And I really liked it on you. So did you decide you should keep it then, or did I tell you that you should?

I always had to convince you to keep anything for yourself. You were always giving and thinking of others first.  But it looked beautiful on you- that amethyst ring. And you still wanted to give me a ring. I must have mentioned somewhere in the conversation that I really liked silver. The sales guy was on it, and he pulled out this little ring, a silver one, and it had these five little gem stones in it.  It was pretty, but I wasn’t totally sure about it.  Until, he told us the story behind it and its name.

“It’s called a Journey Ring,” he said to both of us. And as he pointed to each little gem, he said that they represent different journeys in our lives. And that the pattern of going from a small gem to a bigger and bigger one was supposed to represent going from one journey to deeper and deeper ones.

travelling-alone

You smirked and said something like, “It’s perfect for my daughter because she is ALWAYS on some journey.”  Haha! Oh my God, Mom, that was a good one.  And then the equally funny sales guy put his hand over yours and said, “Mom, we are ALL on a journey.”

I found it hilarious that he called you “Mom”- this tall, Asian Jewelry salesman in a crisp, classy suit.  I wanted to say, “Wait, she’s MY mom,” but of course I didn’t.  I know he was trying to be flattering and connect with us to make the sale. And actually, he did a good job of it, because I was sold by the story behind the ring and I loved its name. And I think you just liked that I liked it.

Did we get it resized there? I think we must have needed to. It seems strange that it would have fit perfectly.  That rarely happens with rings on my hands.

I never knew how significant that moment would be, how it suddenly arose as one so deeply etched in my mind and heart.  I was excited about having a ring from you and one that represented this travel bug I always seemed to have, and this search for something deeper.  Excited about all the future journeys I would be going on or that were waiting for me.  What I didn’t want to face was having to continue without you.  That is not something I was consciously thinking about at that time.  Because I know that whenever the idea did creep into my mind, I couldn’t stay with it.  It frightened me so much. I had to always try to run away from it or just brush it aside.

Since then, I have come to learn that there are many types of journey rings. It is not that unique of a name.  But my ring is unique because it came from you and holds the story of that day for me.

I’ve been going on a few more journeys than normal since you’ve been gone.  This time, they were all either in search of a connection to you, or in search of answers and maybe to escape the reality of your not being here.

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I have learned over and over that it is not something I can escape.

I have tried to imagine inviting you on the journeys, to accompany me and see all these new lands and people and sites and sounds.  But no matter where I go, no matter how far, or who I meet, I cannot fill the space that is left inside of me that only you and your voice and touch and your peace can fill. I am still looking for proof of your peace.

I don’t know how to find it. And when I am away, I feel guilty for not having made more time to go on and experience these trips with you. To experience new foods, cultures, clothing, and music that exist around the world with you.  Traveling has given me new insights, taught me so much, made me come back home with fresh eyes and a rejuvenated heart.  THIS is what you needed.  And I feel awful for not having helped you have those experiences. I shared this feeling of guilt with an acquaintance I met while I was away recently.

He told me that I no longer need to feel guilty because “Your mother is going with you now to all of these places.  She is probably thanking you for going on these journeys. Because all that you experience and see and feel through them now, she is able to share with you.”

I would like to believe that he is right. I really would. I just don’t know anymore. And I still am always looking for proof. I am sorry, Mom, for not taking more journeys with you, for not seeing more of the world with you.

spiritual-journey

Places are changing around me, even people and areas around home are transforming into newer buildings and businesses.  But I will hold on to the little things, like my journey ring from you, to remind me of the journey that I was blessed to have with you.  Even if it didn’t involve flying to another continent, or enough shopping trips in other countries, I know that my best and most meaningful journey was the one spent with you.  All the moments, all the conversations, all the silences, all the laughs and even the tears.  The best journey of my life was you. Thank you, Mom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leaving Notes,… Just in Case

Dear Mom,

they-had-plans

I hate this quote that starts, “Those who died yesterday had plans.”  I know it’s supposed to make us all stop and think and go out and do all those things that we want to do before it’s too late.  Not to take life for granted as it says.  But all it does is make me ache at the thought of all the plans you had that week or ten days you were in the hospital. And how I took all of that, and the idea that you would just be here longer, for granted.

It is so painful to think that that day that you woke up and went out in the afternoon with the homecare worker to get groceries, you had no idea that this is how it would all go.  That you were going to fall such a painful and devastating fall, right outside your place and end up in the hospital. And even in the hospital, you had no idea that you were going to stay there, and never come home again. I can’t even believe I just wrote that. Continue reading Leaving Notes,… Just in Case