On My Mind: A Hole in My Heart

“There’s a hole in my heart
And I carry it wherever I go
Like a treasure that travels with me down every road
There’s this longing lonesome and deep
Kind of bitter, kind of sweet
There’s a hole in my heart in the shape of you.”
-  Jewel, A Hole in My Heart

She’s gone.  This past Sunday afternoon, she passed away peacefully in her sleep – just the way she would have wanted and certainly the way my sister and I wanted.  Looking back, I was aware of when she left.  I was lying on the sofa with Weasel on top of me with my eyes closed.  Suddenly, I became aware of harp music.  For real.  And, there are no harpists in my neighborhood.

I got up to see if I had left something on that would be producing harp music.  I hadn’t.  So, I settled back on the sofa with Weasel and Minkey, and the faint music started once more.  About forty minutes later, I received the phone call to let me know my mom was gone.

For years, she had forgotten all of the details of her life.  Everyone talked about how happy she was – how pleasant it was to have her around. I used to think that “forgetting” could be a blessing in some ways – that each day you would start with a brand new slate with no writing on it.  And, that if someone walked out of the room and came back in, you would be thrilled to see them as if it had been years.  That used to make me smile.

But, over the past several years, she had become frail, confined to a wheel chair and depending on someone to feed her.  Every time the phone rang, I was expecting “the call”- especially if I saw caller ID.  When we were with her, occasionally she remembered who we were.  Most of the time, she would just stare in our faces as if she was searching for some hint of recognition of just who we were.  She would hold our hands and take us in with her eyes, and I suspect, her heart.  And, even though she couldn’t remember our names and exactly why we would be there with her, she always told us she loved us before we left.  So, on a soul level, she knew who we were and that we belonged to her.

Growing up is so strange and hopefully, evolving.  For so many years, I could be angry with her for not doing what “good” mothers were supposed to do.  You know how they say mothers get blamed for everything?  Well, there was a time when she did… for just about everything.

When I look back now, I chuckle when I think about her saying, “You think your father’s perfect.  Well, he’s not.”  I was in high school or college at the time and know she was getting tired of being blamed for all my woes. But, she was an easy target for me.  I must have exasperated the hell out of her many times.

As I got older, I held resentments inside.  I lived across the country and when I visited, things were just fine, but I stilled blamed her for stuff.  There was always love there and as I grew up and matured, I realized how proud she was of me, my sister and her grandchildren – and, how much she loved us the only way she knew how.  There was never any doubt about that.  And, interestingly enough, as she became more forgetful and let down her walls, she also became more open.  She naturally expressed her love as if she knew that openness was exactly what we needed.  We were grateful for that experience.

So, my mother is gone.  My sister and I are now adult orphans, and that certainly is a feeling you don’t know about until you experience it.  It’s when your own thoughts of mortality may make a big appearance and when your life flashes before you.  On Sunday night, I just couldn’t get to sleep.  There was this big hole in my chest and lots of activity was going on.  About 3:30 am on Monday morning, I realized what was happening.  My heart was opening up to let out once and for all, any resentment that could be hanging around and just hold my mom and her love in my heart.

It’s amazing what that experience did, because even though there is residual sadness, most of my thoughts are that she must be having a fabulous time reuniting with my Dad, with family, with friends and pets.  I’m imagining all sorts of festivities going on – and, all of them deciding the best way to be with us and let us feel their presence and their love.  I like that.

There is a hole in my heart.  And, it’s filling up.