31 Letters to my Mother {Day 31} Healing, Forgiveness, Stars and Dandelion Fluff

 Dear Mom,

Late letter, only two hours to spare. Forgive me but today was a mad dash of a thing.

We were in Oklahoma City early to take Noelle to see a specialist  (Don’t worry she’s absolutely fine.)

Then we rushed home only to run out the door again for Halloween and Trick or Treating.  It was a gorgeous evening graced by a foggy Harvest Moon.

The stars above us were so clear that Caedmon kept trying to reach up and touch them.  He squirmed in my arms straining for something so beautiful, ethereal and clearly out of his grasp.

What a fitting picture to close these letters with because so often in grieving the loss of you, I have felt like a child reaching for something I’ll never grab hold of.  All the components and pieces that made up your life and death will never come together cohesively for me.

I won’t ever really understand why.

And now, through these healing days of writing, I’m done grasping and striving for things out of my reach.

As I wrote and questioned, wondered and wept something inside of me changed.  The hard barbs and anger softened up into dandelion fluff and sort of floated away in a breeze of grace and forgiveness.

 I forgive you, I forgive me.  I know that at your core you were always the cheerleader, the one who loved to laugh, the woman who longed to be a mother, the mother who tried to make it work.

And now you’re spirit, light and free.  I feel you always in the corners of my life, no longer the heavy, burdened soul but a gorgeous presence in my life. One who laughs and rejoices at what she sees in her daughter and grandchildren.

The little child in me will always long for the comfort of your lap and the safety of your arms. The grown woman in me longs partner with you in the struggling and striving of adulthood.

We stand Mother and daughter, one on each side of glory.  You know fully and I squint into a mirror most days, hoping for a glimpse of the divine that you are surrounded by.

And this is how we shall be until we meet again, until we can see each other fully, as God intended.

Forever and always I love you, I miss you


  • Deb

    Sweet beyond belief!

    • Maribeth Stech

      You did a beautiful job this past month in honoring your mother. Thank you for the tears and the smiles as I was so able to remember your mom, my beautiful sister-in-law, along with you. I miss and love her too.
      Love you always, Aunt Mar

      • http://leannepenny.wordpress.com leannepenny

        Thank you Aunt Mar, I love you.