115/365 - Saying goodbye

I wrote the letter below on the morning of my Mom's first memorial service last December. I didn't plan on speaking at the service because I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it all together, but my heart was bursting and there was so much I wanted to say. I woke up early that day with all these thoughts swirling around in my head. After about an hour, I finally decided to get up and write them down so someone else could share them for me. Looking back and reading it again now, there are things I'd like to add, but on the other hand, I want to share it just the way it came to me and the way it was read at Mom's first memorial service almost 5 months ago. Today we said goodbye again, in a very different way, but my sentiments are still the same...



My mom was many things to many people, but to me she was my best friend. She was the person I could talk to about anything, who would listen to me for as long as I needed to talk without making me feel hurried or like I was taking her from something because I knew there was nothing more important to her than to be there for me. She was the person who understood me sometimes better than I understood myself and who would tell me the things I needed to hear, even if they were the things I didn’t want to hear, and she always seem to know the right thing to say to help me with whatever I was going through. She was my rock. The one I could always count on to be there, the one who I knew would go to the ends of the earth and back for me, and the one I knew who loved me more than anything else on this earth. She was my constant. Someone who lived her life the way she wanted to, going here and there and sometimes being gone for days or weeks or longer, but who would always show back up, close to my side to share my days and my life with me. I always thought she would be there, and now that she is gone, I feel so lost. She was with there for me in the beginning and I was there for her in the end and we shared so many beautiful times in between.

When I was about 7 or 8, mom took me out on a raft in the San Clemente ocean and showed me how to ride the waves. We often talked about how crazy that was and how easily it could have turned out disastrous, but my Mom always loved adventure and told me she wanted me to experience something that she loved and knew that she could protect me.

When I was in 5th grade, she took me out of school for a month to go on a surfing adventure in El Cardon, Mexico. We camped on the beach and she showed me how to live off the land by collecting clams in the sand, setting lobster traps in the ocean and prying abalone off the rocks. She taught me how to brush my teeth and wash dishes in salt water and how to build a great fire. But most of all, she showed me the beauty of stars like I’d never seen them before and gave me the gift of hearing the whales sing as they came into the bay to find their mate in Scammon’s Lagoon.

At around age 15, Mom took me to see Rocky Horror Picture Show when it first came out and then took me back to many midnight showings as it became more and more popular. She took me to see Pink Floyd, the Moody Blues and Willie Nelson and fostered my love of music. And even though I can’t play an instrument or sing a note, Mom taught me how to feel music in my heart and how to let it move my soul.

Mom was with me when our precious babies were born, helping me find my way in motherhood. And while she never once told me how to raise my children, she was always there for advice or support when I needed it. She was a wonderful sounding board, there to help and support, not to judge or criticize. I often reflect on my qualities as a mother and rather than thinking I want to do things differently for my children than were done for me as I know some people do, I only want to emulate and create the environment of trust and love and respect that my Mom raised me with. If I can be half the mother to my children that my mother was to me, I will be happy. She always gave me her heart and that is what I want to pass to my children.

And while Mom never showed me how to put on makeup or how to cook a turkey dinner or make a proper bed, she taught me about love and laughter, about experiencing and really feeling, about being strong and true to myself, about finding my own inner path and following it, about finding meaning in even the simplest things, about embracing the moment and making the most out of what I had. She lived her life simply but had so much. So much compassion. So much concern. So much joy. So much love.

Randi told me that she loved Tutu because whenever Chunky man was sleeping she would let her come over to her house where they would make art and play, and she loved when they went to the movies together. And while I miss my mother deeply, I miss more the fact that Randi won’t be able to sneak off with my phone to call Tutu to come wisk her away to read Princess books, watch Martha Speaks, make recipes out of her Hannah Montana cookbook and cover her house from one end to the other with glitter just because they could. My Mom loved being a child with her and Randi adored just being with her.

After her beloved Dude passed, Mom told me that one morning when she was walking on the beach in Padre, two seagulls followed her and circled around her for quite some time. She was convinced they were Dude and Kasey. I can only hope that she has joined them and someday the three of them will circle me as I walk the beach in Padre.