At my Mom’s memorial service yesterday, I read something I wrote about death and love and connection. That was a first. I opened the service with a guided meditation and a welcoming of her energy, and then later read what I have written below.
It was magic. Standing up in front of a room of over 100 people who were all there because they loved my Mom deeply. Most of whom I didn’t know, some I hadn’t seen in years, and others who I too am deeply connected to. It felt like a time-warp. It was such a blessing to honor her in that way and to touch on the many truths that she and I shared about the limitlessness of Love. That was everything. Both very much a closing and a new beginning.
My tribute: (Do you put it in quotes when you’re the one who said it? I don’t know. Weird.):
“What I’ve found throughout this time, is that death is something that everyone experiences collectively, but separately. So it’s kind of been like, we’re all in this together, but in our own way. And we’re all just sort of parallel lines in the Universe of the immense change that is death. My experience in particular has been very much its own because I’m so connected to her, and our connection exceeds anything you can necessarily even understand in the physical realm. It’s so much grander than that. Her physical presence is a really small aspect of what I even know about her, because our connection was energetic and it was love and it was vibration and it was consciousness and it was much, much larger than her earthlander body and my earthlander body. It exceeded all of those things.
But now, that part is gone, the physical, which I guess is why death is so hard because it requires you to rewire. It requires you to change. It’s the uncontrollable losing of a key player. For me it was my franchise player, and I say that because she loved sports. She was my franchise player. The one you build your team around. The one you demonstrate appreciation for the most because you recognize their worth and you know that they bring immeasurable value to all parts of your life. And for that reason, you’re willing to make sacrifices for them because you want them happy, because their happiness is your happiness. That’s what she was to me. She was my lifeline.
Secure attachment, that was our relationship. Because I was free. Her love set me free. She helped me build my wings, was my launching pad, and then gave me a place to always come back to that I knew would be warm and loving and happy to see me and there’d be food and more than likely a dance party. She was where I went when I needed love. I guess that’s what you call home. She was my Soul’s version of home.
It’s been a long 8 months, since this all began, and now I’m left with the challenge of trying to figure out how my life looks without her. Who I am without her physical presence. I don’t know myself without her. I don’t. She made me important. She made me whole. She gave me life. 28 years ago, she gave me life, and then again every single day thereafter. And now I feel like there’s something inside of me that is missing. Something’s off. I can’t even fathom how I’ll go on without her some days, and some days I don’t want to. And some days I do. Because every step I take, now, is for her. Instead of doing this with her, now I do it for her. And so depicts the evolution of our love.
What has carried me so far is the knowing that there is no separation. As it says in the program and as was the final line in the dedication of her PhD dissertation, “This work is a tribute to the knowledge that we will always be together in some capacity.” For me, that means I can always tune into her whenever I need and now instead of that being a text message, it’s more like a prayer. She is my Goddess mother. My Spirit Guide. And so far, when I feel like I need her, I can feel her. That’s how connected we are, in heart and Soul. I can feel her. And when I need her advice, I just tune into my own truth, because that’s always where she lead me when I needed answers, she lead me to my truth. And that, to me, is the best thing that a mother can do. Not try to point you in their preferred direction, but to guide you towards your truth and then let you find it on your own. That’s exactly what she did. That’s a great mom. And to be honest, we enjoyed each other so much that I feel like her gift of love will sustain me for longer than this lifetime. The thought of her brings me pure joy. She wrote my definition of love, and now will help me rewrite it, because the love I have for her is unending and now will formulate in a new capacity. The openness I have in my heart when I tune into her is of the utmost, which is the final gift she left me, a place to call home within my heart. That’s my mom. She was good at leaving gifts but this one trumps them all.
My Aunt Trish said that “death is a funny thing. It pretends to be the end, for those of us left behind, but it is really just a new understanding of what love is,” and that has certainly been the case for me and in fact, this has deepened my love for her on so, so many levels. It has deepened my appreciation for who she was to me in the physical form and now who she is to me in the spiritual form. Because she’s still my soulmate. And she’s still my spirit guide. I believe that we perhaps have multiple lifetimes and I have no doubt that I will see her again in a new form. And I think that she was gifted to me for the time that she was here but now it was her time to fly free. And I can’t change that or fight that or argue with that, I just have to let it be and allow change to happen because life is change. That’s the fundamental truth. Life is change. And if you fight it or try to resist it, that’s when it gets hard. But if you allow it and say ok, this is it, this is what I have to work with, then life will flow through you a lot more seamlessly. You have to allow it to just.. be, and know that it can and will be for the highest good in the long run. Know that it might be so hard right now, and that you might some days be scraping the bottom of your barrel, but that it’ll always end up ok.
That, in fact, summarizes her most consistent advice to me, which was simply to always just let life be what it was, and to know that everything’s gonna be ok. Always. Her favorite song was Bob Marley’s, “3 little birds.” And, you know, everything’s gonna be ok. She knew that, I knew that, and I still know that. And from that knowing, I draw my strength. I get my strength from her. But not in the sense that I don’t allow myself to feel what I feel or mope when I need to mope or cry when I need to cry, on quite the contrary, my strength comes from my knowing that there is a Force much larger than we can possibly fathom that connects us all together, forever. And that your feelings are what guide you to your truths and towards that highest good. And when there is an ending to a physical presence, there is a reemerging into whatever that Force is. Like a caterpillar to a butterfly, death is a transformation. Which means for me, that Force now has a name and a tone and a vibration that I know very well, it’s Mom. She is still, and now more than ever, my spirit guide. That’s really incredible.
And what’s even more incredible is that on some capacity, she was a spirit guide for the majority of people in this room. Everyone in this room is better because she was here. And to me, there is no higher good one can do in their lifetime than to love and to make the people around them better. There is no more noble cause than being of service to others. That is the utmost. Loving people, unconditionally, and without limitation or expectation, towards their own highest selves. You did that mom. You did that for all of us. And for that reason, you have succeeded. Your life was a success. We are all a testament of that.
I know that there will be moments and times and days and maybe even weeks that are really hard for all of us. And all of us in different capacities. But if there is one thing that I know she would want you to always remember, it’s that, “every little thing is gonna be alright.” And if you walk out of here today with one thing, for her, let it be that. Let her love and wisdom continue to carry you in that direction, forever.
Thank you Mom. Thank you. You were an absolutely soulful, selfless, brilliant, kind, considerate, compassionate, loving, caring, phenomenal mother and human being. And to think I got to be your daughter. I got to benefit from your aliveness every day for 28 years. And now, for the remainder of my time here in a new capacity. Lucky me.
Thank you all. I love you.”
With Love, Solé