Holding onto the flowers for my Mom, in condolence of her passing, has been steadfast.  Six months.  I think to myself, let’s allow the flowers to be as it will be.  If they fall, which some have, that is their fate.  If they stand, then we will provide the space for it.  My Mom wanted nothing more than to be let be after she left us.  And we did.  We carried out all her wishes.

My Dad, until his heart’s content, will hold on to these flowers, that day, the day everyone came together to pray for her wellbeing as she began her journey into the afterlife.  Our family and friends adorned our fireplace with flowers and foliage to ease our pain and to have a place for our eyes to rest, on the beauty of what nature brings as we mourned so hard that evening.  The power of the beginning  of her journey was so forceful and loud that night.  As the priest prayed and spoke from his understanding and over a hundred people sang hymns, tornado sirens were screaming in the background, the home instantly and simultaneously filled with the sounds of numerous smart phones alarming of severe weather and possible tornado.  Even amongst the bizarre machine frenzy those who were “present” did not move, did not heed to the shrieking advice from their phones to take shelter.  There was an unwavering loyalty to her prayer.  See to me, clearly it was my Mom, making herself present for us in the most unforgettable and obvious ways.  She was always practical and really just to the point. In our Orthodox tradition, they say the first 40 days the soul of the deceased stays with us and at the 40th day they begin their afterlife with God.  My Dad is very much steeped in this belief.  And her power and presence was real.  I acknowledged my Mom that day and I confirmed that with my sister.   The truth is I still acknowledge her everyday, numerous times a day.

The tradition of visiting a small carved out section of earth where our loved one may lay to rest is not an option for us.  For us it happens at home.  A forever message my Mom has left for us.

Loud and clear Mommy.

Oh how these flowers conjures up so much for me.

light & love



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