We're in Florida now, and the rain is pouring down. Thunder is shaking the house, and I was laying on my bed reading and thinking of how much my mother loved thunderstorms. At the home, Mom's nurse would turn down the lights in her room when it thunderstormed so she could sense the lightning flashes and drama of it all, even if she couldn't turn her head to look out the window and see the magnificence herself.
I'm in America for the first time since my mother died, and I realize I don't have to go to the Memphis airport ever again, or walk down the halls of her home, or get an order of pancakes to take to the home for her breakfast treat anymore. I began to surreptitiously cry when all these facts came home to me this morning, and my family never even noticed.
I went to Florida once with my grandparents and Mom, and now I'm the only one who is still alive from that trip, so when I die, the trip and those memories will have never happened.
My friend Madeline Cotter gave me a fascinating book for my birthday called Parallel Lives: The Victorian Marriage by Phyllis Rose. In the section about Thomas Carlyle and his wife, there's a quote that sums up the way I'm feeling about my mother these days. If only I could have her back for five minutes just to tell her a few things I forgot....
Carlyle said of his wife after she died:
Ah me! she never knew fully, nor could I show her in my heavy-laden miserable life, how much I had at all times regarded, loved and admired her. No telling of her now. "Five minutes more of your dear company in this world. Oh that I had you yet for but five minutes, to tell you all!"
10 comments:
Bless your heart, chile. But you did tell your mother so very much---far more than most people tell their mothers! And even if you had five minutes, she'd want to talk about you, and her grandchildren, not herself.
It's dangerous to speculate about what the dead would "want" us to do, with them physically gone. But I think it's safe to say that Laura would be very sad to know that you are having such a hard time. You owe it to her to try and laugh, remembering the happy times.
I know I'd want my daughter to dry her tears and go make one of my recipes, or laugh about some silly thing I did, but NOT cry---if she were sad I'd feel terrible up in Heaven!
Husbands are different. When we are dead, husbands should NEVER recover, should take vows of celibacy, and lock themselves in basements burning candles in front of our photographs...
Meemers would fuss at you for being sad. And we don't want Meemers fussing! Have fun in Floridy.
Ditto what Brenda said, except for the husband stuff.
I think your mother knows more about what you feel now than before. Consider that her present vantage point is celestial rather than mundane. I suspect all is known to her and that, as Brenda said, she is probably concerned that her daughter is distraught.
Want to make your mom happy; buck up.
Hi Mike---
As Elizabeth says she doesn't believe in an afterlife, or the consciousness of a spirit after bodily function ceases, all our words may be useless, but I'd go further and say that it really doesn't matter.
Whether Laura is listening, watching, and praying up there, or in blissful oblivion, cannot be known empirically. Might as well toss that debate aside, because none of us will be able to speak intelligently on that topic until we're dead ourselves, after which we probably won't have very good communication skills...I plan to rattle a chain or two, and make spooky noises if MY HUSBAND dares to go on a date after I'm in the ground ("Blithe Spirit" is one of my favorite plays), but, you know what I mean...
Elizabeth, yeah, girl, you gotta buck up. We're not saying "Oh, get over it, get a grip"---far from that! You must NEVER "get over" darling precious Laura. Her unique, funny, sweet spirit must forever be part and parcel of you. But you can't weep forever about her. She really would feel terrible if you did that! Assimilate her Meemerisms. Talk to her in your mind daily. But don't feel you can't go on without her. Every mother's dream is that her daughter will "pay it forward" to the next generation. Be a "Laura" to Katie, and believe me, Laura will rest contented.
Jesus, her mama's only been dead a month, for God's sake. Let her grieve her own way. "Buck up" is just something folks say to make themselves feel more comfortable in the face of death.
Lizbeth, you take as long as you need to, and if folks don't want to read about what you are feeling, they can switch to another blog! Sheesh!
mammy, how rude, harsh, and unhelpful. these two commenters clearly meant to show love and concern for elizabeth. i think she knows that. perhaps it is angry flamers who need to seek another forum.
Shush shush shush. It's not like any of you are helping by bickering!
No, leave Mammy alone you guys. I liked what she said. I like what all of you said, but it was nice of Mammy to give me the slack to still be upset over my mother -- it hasn't even been a month. I am 'bucked up' to the outside world, but I write here of my internal struggles. I have a long way to go yet so will continue to blather about Mom for a while....thanks for understanding.
Of course, we all understand. Laura was a rare Meemers, and won't be forgotten soon---or ever. And Mammy sho nuff be right, but I agree with Anonymous that she was a little abrasive in making her valid and good point. For my part in this, I certainly apologize; having known and loved Laura, I was only trying to "buck her[Elizabeth]up." A terrible phrase, I do admit, but sometimes lame words are all that come to hand, when one does not know quite what to say. As Anonymous discerned, I think E knew we meant only the best.
Mammy knows a mule in hoss harnesses, sho' nuff!
Folks say all kinds of mean things, thinking it be in love. Mammy has said a few herself.
Now y'all leave my lammy alone. Lizbeth be brave to let us see inside her heart.
Y'all so sweet, y'all so nice!! (A waitress in a catfish place in Jackson, Tennessee, said this over and over to us one time we were there & we decided she must have been on some heavy medication because it was all she could say -- but it fits here because I appreciate all your comments.)
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