So it’s a sunny day in March. It’s the time of the Baha’i Fast – which I am doing spiritually this year (beautiful dawn prayers) as I don’t feel I can cope with it, while learning to accept Mum’s passing. I see this as a time of reflection and I am hoping I can get my teeth stuck into one or more of my writing projects. But I also feel a sense of drifting as I recover from the events of the past months and re-map my life now that Mum doesn’t play a physical part in it anymore.
The hardest thing for me is not being able to sit and talk things through with her. We spoke almost every day and she helped me gather my thoughts, listened to my frustrations, goals, hope, worries and excitement and assisted me in making steps forward. I am learning to do this more with Dad now. Dad is a great listener, very kind and gentle in his steps forward, he makes me realize in his responses that I can be kind to myself – that this is ok and I need to trust my abilities and ways of understanding my life. Of course Ramin is there for me in every aspect also. His support has been like a continuous bear hug of love.
Talking with my Mum was such a fluid form of communication where I often felt she understood me better than I understood myself. She still does…she’s not connected to her body anymore, but she hasn’t gone from me, from my Dad, my sister, my brother and all the family and all her friends. She’s still with us, just in a way that is now purely spiritual.
This word ‘still’ is resonating with me at the moment. She’s still here. Her soul is with me, still, always. I sit in stillness and stare out at the trees, that are still there, that are still. So, I wrote a poem on this….
So I wait for you, still
caught in a tangle at the fence
look for your face, the way you walk
your red scarf muffling your neck
blond trails dancing in the breeze.
I wait for your bright smile
that complete sense of being seen and
loved by you
one of the select core
you always had time and attention for.
A scrap of orange nail-varnish
still adorns the tip of my big toes
because you told me you liked it
you caught a glimpse while Dad helped you
from the bathroom to the bedroom.
You liked my nails and my pink jumper
“I love that colour on you!’ you said,
and if I remove it, if I take the colour off
then I won’t see it anymore
I won’t have a tiny part of you
connected by a recent time and the memory
of your positive feedback on my choices
Adrift, I’m floating aimlessly
I have to navigate using different strengths now
I do have goals and hopes, projects that interest me
But I don’t have you, in the same way
and everything has lost its edge
the meaning I could get lost in
as your encouragement was always there
and though still always here
I can’t yet see it, my map is blurry.
So I wait for you,
sometimes blank and thoughtless
sometimes streaming tears that rise from my solar plexus
and travel through my blood through all veins and skin
often in remembrance of the daily love I always had
from before my birth to the night you died
and beyond, but in a different way
that is as yet, hidden from this waiting girl.