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Almost too tender for words

I know that at the moment this picture was taken, I could never have imagined a world without her. My mother’s birthday has passed and with it new experiences of learning how to live in this world she no longer inhabits.

I wanted to capture how I felt throughout the day, remembering how I loved celebrating her, finding earrings and nightgowns as gifts to adorn and comfort the soul of my life. How she inspired me to be the best version of myself. How the fullness of life could always be traced back to loving her.

I realized in a new way how that corner I could always go to, is now vacant. How her presence and being is in a different realm, one that requires of me the deepest stillness and purest powers of intention to bring forth. And how I must continue to learn to relish the sweetness of that eternal knowing that is often elusive, yet profoundly important to hold and cherish.

Simply being in her presence was the safe place that was effortlessly available to me with a visit or a phone call. Now I’m learning to create a new safe place. It’s largely ineffable, and yet as a writer I still strive to find the words to share that which is almost too tender for words.

It is worth mentioning that I am hardly alone in loving and missing her. Her bountiful being has deeply touched many. My niece chose her birthday to get married and her oldest daughter was named after her. I can see in this little girl’s eyes, a spark of life that is sometimes so tender to behold, my heart breaks and swells at the same time.



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