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My mom and I have had one of those relationships that flits between being very in tune with each other… the best of friends who understand each others’ thoughts, feeling each others’ pain or distress, and one of being oil and water, never mixing fluidly together.
How can two people be so alike yet so different?
This past September, my mother moved into our home to live with my husband, our son, two dogs, a bird…, and me. This move ended up being so much more traumatic for us than I could have ever anticipated. Changing up the routine and physical surrounding for my mom at her age of ninety was excruciating for her, resulting in a negative energy flowing through our home.
Mom was angry at her change in circumstances and wished she had never chosen to move in with us. She was having trouble letting go of not having her own home and I was angry that she was not appreciative about the fact that we had opened up our home to her. I also was angry with myself because I felt responsible and guilty that I could not make her happy, and I questioned if having her live with us was the right decision? Did we make a huge mistake?
Then in November, something changed…
I went to volunteer at the Children’s Grief Camp that I have helped out at for the past two years. At this particular camp in November, I worked with the adult family members’ camp. It was at this camp that I saw the intense, unimaginable pain of grief… grief of parents who experienced the death of a child. It was at this camp that I had an epiphany…, I was the product of a grieving home, being born six years after my mom’s third child had died unexpectedly.
I came home from the camp and in tears, told my mom that I now understood her pain and her grief from losing Greg so many years ago. I asked her if she would help me write a book about my brother Greg and the impact of his death on her (and our family). I told her that I felt we had a story to tell that could help other parents and families who are dealing with grief after the death of a child.
As I asked questions and started writing the book, my mom’s and I relationship changed from one of anger and upset to one of love and comfort. My mom felt heard by someone for the first time since the day Greg died and I saw her as a young twenty-nine year old mother, grieving from a parent’s worst nightmare.
Then in March, I learned about the Ho’oponopono prayer (see my March 14, 2015 blog post). I prayed the Ho’oponopono for my mom, on behalf of all who had hurt her in the days after Greg’s death… I prayed it daily for several weeks and soon a not so subtle shift occurred in our relationship. My mom has become vibrant, sassy, fun, and more mentally alert than we have seen in a few years. She has allowed herself to be an intimate part of our family and the atmosphere in our home has moved from dark and angry to light and relaxed…
I have realized over these past few months that my mother is a beautiful, intuitive and loving soul. A soul who just needed to have someone to hear her story, shed tears on her behalf, and help her heal old wounds. She needed comforting, unconditional love to mend her heart that was shattered so many years ago.
I am blessed to have my mother in my life when so many do not. I am blessed to have had the opportunity to move through the cloud of grief that our family had lived in the shadows of for over sixty years.
I urge all of you whose mommas are still alive to take the time to hear her story and embrace her with comfort and love for that is the only gift any momma really wants…
Happy Mother’s Day to all women and men who have been a loving, nurturing influence to a child… I bow my head in honor and respect to all of you.
If you are interested in understanding how coaching could help you move forward and find joy after loss, please contact me for a free thirty minute coaching call.