My Mom, Gratitude and Grief, and the Love That Does Not Die

Mom looks at photo album I made for her of her life

Many tender moments

So many memories of Mom/Grandma sitting in these chairs...

 Still No Word About My Mother

Gratitude and grief often coexist. I sit out on our patio and am bathed in beauty, peace, abundance. And I feel this aching in my heart for my mother.

It has now been two days since my mom was taken from her assisted living 20 minutes from our home in Washington state to Michigan. It is also one week today since I last saw my mother. And it is day five since the restraining order was put in place severing my mother from all forms of contact with me, her family, and anyone who knows me. This was to ensure that Nancy would "successfully" comply with the court ordered "transition plan" to leave her family and move across the country. Obviously, the other party did not believe my mother would "transition" unless all those who love her were forbidden contact with this frail and vulnerable elderly woman. Although she held out for days - communicating with the police, with her ombudsman, with Adult Protective Services, with Quarry staff (where she lives), and with multiple family and friends that she would not go - my 87 year old mother could not hold out indefinitely, scared, depressed, starved and isolated from her family as she was. So Wednesday, after untold hours alone with the ex-stepson, his wife, and their Michigan attorney, she left. 

And there has been no word since. Although my mom has now "transitioned," the restraining order is still in place. I cannot even go to the Quarry to gather anything and see what Mom took and what was left behind. And I cannot even hear from or talk with my mom. I am not allowed to know how she is doing. And the heart-wrenching silence of the unknown persists...

Again and again and again, the question that demands an answer persists: What was the motivation of the ex-stepson and his wife to force my mother to move away from her own family? Why???

It is my belief that the addiction to greed can be among the most powerful. And like any addiction, it can certainly blind anyone to the deeper truths held in one's heart and the hearts of others. As someone who is now clean and sober 29 years, I say this with humility, with compassion, and as someone who personally understands addiction and its many faces because I have been there. It is also through the doorway of addiction, of my broken heart, of my wounds, of my fears and grief that I have been empowered with awakening from the trance I had lived in for so many years. Every year I am alive, my heart deepens, expands, awakens to greater sweetness, joy, laughter, connection, abundance, love. As Stephen Levine states, "The more we love, the more real we become."

And I love my mom.

Side by side with this aching in my heart for my mother and all that has been ripped away from her is this abundance, this consciousness of knowing that wherever Mom/Grandma is, there is this love that does not die. This love that no one can take from either of us. Even the strenuous efforts by the other family over the past seven years to replace our family with theirs in my mother's heart did not kill off the love that simply will not die. Blessed be.

Peace & blessings.... Molly

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The Love That Will Not Die

Spiritual awakening is frequently described

as a journey to the top of a mountain.

We leave our attachments and our worldliness

behind and slowly make our way to the top.

At the peak we have transcended all pain.

The only problem with this metaphor is

that we leave all the others behind --

our drunken brother, our schizophrenic sister,

our tormented animals and friends.

Their suffering continues, unrelieved

by our personal escape.

                  

In the process of discovering our true nature,

the journey goes down, not up.

It’s as if the mountain pointed toward the      

center of the earth instead of reaching into the sky.

Instead of transcending the suffering of all creatures,

we move toward the turbulence and doubt.

We jump into it. We slide into it. We tiptoe into it.

We move toward it however we can.

We explore the reality and unpredictability

of insecurity and pain, and we try not to push it away.

If it takes years, if it takes lifetimes,

we will let it be as it is. At our own pace,

without speed or aggression,

we move down and down and down.

         

With us move millions of others,

our companions in awakening from fear.

At the bottom we discover water,

the healing water of compassion.

Right down there in the thick of things,

we discover the love that will not die.

- Pema Chödrön

Lily in our backyard pond