Month: December 2012

Good-Bye and Left Behind

~ a year ago... ~

~ a year ago… ~

As we’re saying good-bye to 2012 I remember saying good-bye to my parents a year ago, as they were leaving Australia to come back home. It was the last time I saw her.

For some years now I practiced saying good-bye to them with the knowing that it might be the last time, given their age. This last time I practiced the same, being especially grateful for having spent more than 3 weeks with them since my Mum’s suicide attempt earlier in the year. I knew that this time was a gift and I cherished it.

With the state she was in, I did however not expect her to be dead within less than 3 weeks after this moment. A death on her own terms. She said good-bye in her own way. I assume her last visit and first meeting with her latest grand-daughter was unconsciously her good-bye to me, to us. (more…)

Christmas Without

~ X Mas at the Valley ~

~ X Mas at the Valley ~

Last year we all celebrated together: My parents came to visit and met their latest grand-daughter for the first time and they found out more about the grand-daughter who passed away on day 3.

This year it’s different.

Without Amya

Ananda Mae is showered with attention and presents. She’s now aware enough to open her presents with glee. Yesterday I shared with the family that instead of sending out Christmas cards we donate money to charity, the volunteer organization called Heartfelt. They took many beautiful the photos of Amya, while she was still alive and when she passed.

As I was talking about it, I suddenly realized that (more…)

Avoiding The Present Experience

Get out of my way or I'll scratch!

Get out of my way or I’ll scratch!

It is fairly common to avoid what we experience, specifically if we don’t like what the experience brings with it. Often, dare I say always, it is the emotional component that is disliked, unaccepted or denied.

I don’t like anger

I am aware of this right now. Today marks what would have been my mother’s 70th birthday, if she had not chosen to end her life prematurely in January this year. Today is a heavy day for me and I struggle with the mixture of anger at her decision to leave, her not being physically present and celebrating with her and her one year old grandchild, the feeling of missing her and on the other side the desire for me to be compassionate, accepting and seeing the positive in everything. Right now, the anger is much more prevalent and in my head I hear the screaming voice saying: ‘What the hell is there positive in this???’ (more…)

Today 15 Months Ago

I held you in my arms

~ Close to my heart ~

~ Close to my heart ~

The one and only time

I held you close to my heart

For you to hear your mother’s heartbeat one more time

Knowing that it was our time to say good-bye

I carried you back to heaven’s door

For you to become what you were destined to always be

Our Angel, our Miracle

The shepherd that accompanied her twin sister to her destiny

to live a life here on earth

Always in communication with you

Yet not for us to see

And still…

I hold you close to my heart

Whenever I hold you sister

I hold you close to my heart too

As from one became two

And from two became one again

So I hold you close to my heart



~ Hope is Never Far ~

~ Hope is Never Far ~

I just read this post on Lanie’s blog ‘A mourning Mum’ quoting Brooke from by the brooke, writing about a book she read:

 Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar.  The book is written by Cheryl Strayed, who was formerly the anonymous online advice columnist, Dear Sugar.  The book is a collection of letters written to Dear Sugar and her responses.

One letter is from a bereaved mother, Stuck.  Stuck’s baby died.  I want to share the wisdom that Sugar so powerfully offers.  The following is part of the advice that Sugar wrote to her:

Dear Stuck,

I’m so sorry that your baby girl died.  So terribly sorry.  I can feel your suffering vibrating right through my computer screen.  This is to be expected.  It is as it should be.  Though we live in a time and place and culture that tries to tell us otherwise, suffering is what happens when truly horrible things happen to us. (more…)

Here She Was

~ for you ~

~ for you ~

Today I find myself sitting on the desk, which used to me my mother’s desk, in my bedroom, which used to be my mother’s bedroom, looking out of the window into the garden, which used to be my mother’s garden.

Actually, to be correct, the desk used to be mine when I was a child. It’s an antique cute little desk on which I used to do my home work. It was, like this one, facing the window. It was, like this one, looking out into the garden. Déjà vue!

I wonder what my mother’s life looked like and – again – I cannot understand what brings a human being, delicate and beautiful like my mum, to leave life prematurely. I know, I don’t have to understand it.

I see the plants, trees and flowers she chose to have in her garden peaking out of the snow. That’s what her garden must have looked like the last time she saw it…

Exactly a year ago my parents were preparing to come to Australia to visit and see their 3 months old granddaughter. They were also preparing to visit us, grieving parents, not knowing what to expect and where we were at. I wonder what was going on for them not being able to support us through the loss of Amya, not being together as a family, not even having seen their other granddaughter. And I guess that very likely her own loss would have been remembered, whether consciously or unconsciously. The baby girl that she lost…

Here she was, here I am. Remembering. Consciously.