Mom memories

Today marks eight years since I got the late night phone call that my mom passed away.  That moment was not unexpected.  In many ways it was anticipated; she'd been in so much pain and recovery wasn't really in the cards by that point.  My entire family had spend about two years of being intensely focused on my mom and each other as we journeyed with her through a hodgepodge of very serious health concerns.  I wouldn't want to go through all that again, but it also carried with it a certain beauty.  As the lyrics to the Death Cab for Cutie song What Sarah Said so aptly put it:  "Love is watching someone die." 
Love of course is so much more than that too.  It's everything.  The happy, sad, silly, serious and so-so moments.  Mix it all up and you've got something very human and very holy ... love.

Eight years later, my love for mom hasn't changed.  It's different of course, but it's also the same. I know she loves me and is present in some mysterious way I'll never understand but that I am very grateful for.  The whole nun thing happened after she passed away, but looking back on our last deep conversations with each other I don't think she'd be surprised.  We spent a lot of time in her hospital room talking about the state of the world, God, love, life.  Most likely she's watching on from heaven as I get ready to profess my final vows as a Sister of St. Joseph of peace with that smiling smirk she often wore on her face.

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