May 11, 2006

We had a gathering at our home today to mark my mother's death. From the first knock on the door, the first guest, my tears finally began to flow. I had been numb. After months of being with her day and night, yes, sleeping in her room, it struck me as terribly unreal that she was gone. But when people came to pay their respects, I understood. The house was beautiful with flowers, I shined the silver, and there were crystal and gemstone colored glass dishes full of food. Neighbors came, friends, my brothers business contacts, and so many people from Hospice found the time to come by. My Dad made a lovely speech and I read a piece I'd written for my Mom on her 82 birthday, two years ago. The guests have been gone for hours now, and my tears have stopped again, but I understand they will come back. My eyes will fill; I am not a dry-eyed monster. I loved her so much, and know I will miss her, but until today, I couldn't cry. I'm grateful that a party like so many Mom prepared for anxiously, and enjoyed wonderfully, happened today in her beautiful house, and some of my tears were released at last.