Transition

Marie Me Transition.JPG

When my mom transitioned 5-1/2 years ago, in a way, I did too. 

There was a moment in the hours after she passed that the idea to write and deliver a eulogy for her popped into my mind. 

This idea most surely came from the highest part of me, as the mental and physical parts never would have agreed to this (!), let alone even thought to do it. 

In that moment I took all the growth that I had experienced up until that point in my life and started on a path of my own making. 

I cried sharply as I wrote the words, which seemed to float to me as I sat in my mom's spot on her couch. I could palpably feel her energy with me. 

I read them enough times to be able to deliver them without being completely moved to tears at the truth of them. 

I wrote them to give recognition to the women she was and so that others could get a glimpse of the side of her only I could see. She was a contradiction in a lot of ways, just like me. 

Writing and delivering those words foreshadowed two of the ways my Purpose would unfold. 

As I look back, losing her propelled me to live a life full of love, expanding consciousness and life purpose. 

The experience of loving her in those last few years of her life her showed me how to love myself, others and how to use that love in service to the world. 

Feeling her energy even more strongly now, has me realize over and over again that we really are all connected. 

Her passing called me forward. The difference this time is that I didn't push the thought or desire away. I listened and I acted. Even if I took small steps at first. Especially if I took those tiny steps. 

That calling forward is happening to all of us, no exception. We each have even more that's possible to become and know and experience. 

I listen more and more to what spirit tells me (even when it came to writing this post) and I do it ♥

Much love,
Lauren

 

~For Marie:

9.23.12

I haven't met anyone quite like my mother. She was so incredibly strong inside, despite outward appearances. I saw this firsthand over the last year of her life as she battled another horrible disease. She did it with grace and dignity and always with a good nature, and I am honored to have been on that journey with her.  

You might think her illness made our lives sad, but really the opposite was true. Although we couldn't know she would leave us at this particular time, we all realized our days together were few and precious. So, we lived them to the fullest, given her condition. We took yearly trips to our beloved Boothbay Harbor, Maine, we went out to dinner many, many times and we went on long drives to see the leaves changing.

My mom enjoyed simple pleasures such as noticing when the rose bush she had planted years ago had a bloom, or how beautiful the sky looked when it was filled with cumulus clouds. She loved anytime I brought something new home and insisted I bring it over to her so she could look at it.   

Despite her ongoing health issues, she thought nothing of listening to the troubles of others and through the years continued to add people onto her prayer list, keeping them on even after they had died. Everybody in this room is most likely on her list.

When the situation changed for my Mom as her disease progressed, a different part of her personality emerged. I like to say she became very adorable. She watched things on TV that surprised me such as the X Games, she secretly completed her daily crossword and Sudoku puzzles when she should have been doing her paperwork, she completely charmed any nurse who attended to her when she spent time in the hospital over the years and she fell hopelessly in love with my sister's dog Maddie, even telling one of us that she hoped she died before Maddie did because she couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

I never wanted her to leave us but I know now she is always with us.

She was a confidante, a kindred spirit, a trustworthy co-pilot on long car rides and a mother who never let you forget you were unconditionally loved. 

~Lauren Malloy

 

Photo from 2005