For Thor - 30 - Breath by Breath

I have found that your presence is everywhere. I see you diffused among the trees and how you are also the wind that sings through their branches. You are the inquisitive hawk that hovered in low-hanging thermals just above Aunt Lakshmi's and my heads the other day when we were walking. You are the serenade in the tree frogs chirping. You have expanded into the soft white light of the moon and stars that illumine the koi pond outside my bedroom window. You echo in my heart on the reverberation of the wind chimes in the garden.

Even as I feel you are everywhere, I miss the sweet face and cheerful laugh that belonged to you, my physical son. I miss the strong arms and the big bear hugs. I miss my sweet little boy, who you will always be, to me. I see you in my heart as that innocent, and yet wise, child. You came into this life with a vast depth of wisdom shining through those beautiful blue eyes. I am so profoundly sad that you will never walk in our door again. It's okay that I miss you and that I cry for you, Thor. I am not damaged or broken for the tears. Crying for our lost children, that's what we moms do, you know.

But now, I have caught a glimpse of the treasure that rewards the brave ones who will sit in the breathless deep. I have followed the breadcrumb path you've left along this trail of sorrow to the bottom of the well of grief. I sit here for countless, breathless moments open-hearted and fearless in the face of the pain. My heart wrenches and my eyes pour forth the tears that are the sacred waters of this well. Resting here, the query to the cosmos is pure…Who Am I?

You might wonder how I came to this query when so many other questions might be on the tip of my tongue. All of my other questions are answered. This is the only one left. The only one that matters. It is what sorrow is pushing me to embrace; a deep knowing of truth that transcends body and mind. It's beautiful and maybe a little ironic that death is what drives me to understand life.

Today, I feel less profoundly devastated than I have in a long time. I have accessed a deep, pervading peace, and I feel a calm assurance that All is Well. And this wellness is truly inclusive. It embraces all that I can think, dream, name, know or sense. And yes, it includes you and me, Thor.

I can't pretend to have constancy in this space, yet, but it is more present each moment, more accessible. There are still those spiraling emotions that wind deep into suffering. I am wretched over the loss of your life, and I lament over the fact that you won't be here to live alongside us in all the days yet to dawn. But now, I can appreciate this suffering as an expression of a mother's love. Nothing more. Nothing less. And once I've cried and dried my eyes, I can slip back beneath the stories of "mother" and "son" to rest again in that deep peace and love that connects us all.

And so I learn, day by day, breath by breath, thought by thought... how to live, again.

I love you,
Mom