Resting and Recovering

The view from the breakfast room in the Hotel Concorde in Berlin.

Good Morning, God!

Aaah!  Heaven!  While my athletic husband Kit has been out running every day since we arrived in Berlin for the marathon . . . I have been resting.

Actually, I am doing close to nothing. I am Really Resting. And I love it! We are both sleeping long hours and waking up close to the “right” time here in Berlin. That’s noteworthy. A 12-hour time zone adjustment isn’t easy.

And for both of us, it is more than just time zones. We are recovering from a far more difficult journey — that of accompanying my mommy on her Final Journey.

My mother told me a few months before she died that our daughter Patty (whom we lost to cancer in 1981) had come to her and said: “Don’t be afraid, Grandma! It [dying] isn’t so bad.” And, as dying goes, her’s wasn’t so bad  My mommy had no pain. And after a small stroke on June on 25, she basically began a very slow decline until her death August 25th.

During that time, I kept seeing the image of how the bodies of old Viking queens would be placed on a ship and  sent out to sea . . . to have the ship set on fire. I felt like I was to be ON that ship — going with my mother as far as I could. I felt, mostly in the deep dark of night, that I was to go with her — perhaps past the point of no return.

With Patty, back in 1981, I stayed by her side day and night for the four or so days it took her to leave us. But, my mother’s slide was too gradual for that. Too slow. And so I wasn’t with her when she left. Or perhaps I should say that my Body wasn’t with her. I am becoming aware that a huge part of my inner self was with her — and is only now slowly returning to me.

Fanciful thoughts! But, perhaps, God, there is some truth in them?

About a moment with god

Story teller,