Hi Joyce, I also want to thank you for writing this at such a difficult time. I just read about your mother's passing, and as sad as it is, I rarely read about women who loved their mothers as much as you and I clearly did. After more than a decade, she remains in my heart and will forever. And, when you said your mother missed the Pacif…
Hi Joyce, I also want to thank you for writing this at such a difficult time. I just read about your mother's passing, and as sad as it is, I rarely read about women who loved their mothers as much as you and I clearly did. After more than a decade, she remains in my heart and will forever. And, when you said your mother missed the Pacific Ocean, you reminded me of how I said goodbye to mine. She also loved the ocean, and I wanted to send her off the way she would have wanted me to. My aunt (her sister) and cousin had come to Los Angeles from Austin, TX, for the memorial party at our temple that my mother would have loved. But, what I didn't realize was that they wanted me to scatter her ashes the next day, before they returned home.
And, perhaps, I shouldn't write this publicly (because it's not legal), but since I quickly had to decide what to do, and couldn't deal with renting a boat and all that entailed, I decided to scatter her ashes near Malibu Colony, where she had spent summers with my grandmother and sister at her uncle's and aunt's house as a child. So...I found a place north of the Colony where I could park my car. And we took our beach chairs, the rose pedals I had bought, my mother's ashes, and prayer books, as I had woven together a short ceremony I knew she'd like. And, when the time came, I walked into the ocean, where I scattered the rose pedals and the ashes.
But, I hadn't thought this out very well, so I was wearing jeans instead of a bathing suit, and was sopping wet afterwards, and hadn't brought a change of clothes. Still, I had planned that we'd have lunch at a restaurant that both my mom and dad liked, in Malibu, and so we did.
As we walked into the restaurant, and I headed straight to the bathroom to try and make myself look more presentable, I suddenly saw myself in the mirror. And, there I was with tears running down my face, looking like a complete mess. I sort of gasped for a moment, and then laughed aloud. And, I knew my mother, who had a great sense of humor and was a wonderful story teller and writer, would have laughed with me. She also would have been proud of my ingenuity. So, I brushed my hair, put lipstick on, and I was smiling when I joined my cousin and aunt for lunch. And, that night I wrote a story of our day, in a journal I'd bought to commemorate my mother.
I hope you are able to find a way to say goodbye to your mom that makes you laugh and cry, because you know she's proud of you!
Thank you for sharing this. I'll remember-no jeans, or at least, a change of clothes. But perhaps more importantly, I will remember the importance of keeping my sense of humor.
You're welcome. I know it It seems antithetical to keep your sense of humor when you're feeling so sad. But, if I remember correctly, it was the first time I'd laughed since my mother died. And, once I did, I felt like mama and I were connected once again.
My sincere condolences to Teri and Joyce. Both of your reflections regarding honoring your mothers remind me of my own, which also involved love of the sea and combining ashes and rose pedals. These mother stories are why Bill Harrison and I created an edited book: Saying Goodbye to Our Mothers for the Last Time. It has essays and photos by women and men who write about their various ways of dealing with the deaths of their mothers. Your story and Joyce’s would have been perfect for this book. I mention it, because the feedback we have gotten is that these stories have helped others during these trying times of transition from one state of consciousness to another. One day she is present physically and the next day she is not. No matter the type of relationship, this is a profound change in a son's or daughter’s life going forward. May you both find peace in your memories of your moms and how you managed to say goodbye.
Hi Joyce, I also want to thank you for writing this at such a difficult time. I just read about your mother's passing, and as sad as it is, I rarely read about women who loved their mothers as much as you and I clearly did. After more than a decade, she remains in my heart and will forever. And, when you said your mother missed the Pacific Ocean, you reminded me of how I said goodbye to mine. She also loved the ocean, and I wanted to send her off the way she would have wanted me to. My aunt (her sister) and cousin had come to Los Angeles from Austin, TX, for the memorial party at our temple that my mother would have loved. But, what I didn't realize was that they wanted me to scatter her ashes the next day, before they returned home.
And, perhaps, I shouldn't write this publicly (because it's not legal), but since I quickly had to decide what to do, and couldn't deal with renting a boat and all that entailed, I decided to scatter her ashes near Malibu Colony, where she had spent summers with my grandmother and sister at her uncle's and aunt's house as a child. So...I found a place north of the Colony where I could park my car. And we took our beach chairs, the rose pedals I had bought, my mother's ashes, and prayer books, as I had woven together a short ceremony I knew she'd like. And, when the time came, I walked into the ocean, where I scattered the rose pedals and the ashes.
But, I hadn't thought this out very well, so I was wearing jeans instead of a bathing suit, and was sopping wet afterwards, and hadn't brought a change of clothes. Still, I had planned that we'd have lunch at a restaurant that both my mom and dad liked, in Malibu, and so we did.
As we walked into the restaurant, and I headed straight to the bathroom to try and make myself look more presentable, I suddenly saw myself in the mirror. And, there I was with tears running down my face, looking like a complete mess. I sort of gasped for a moment, and then laughed aloud. And, I knew my mother, who had a great sense of humor and was a wonderful story teller and writer, would have laughed with me. She also would have been proud of my ingenuity. So, I brushed my hair, put lipstick on, and I was smiling when I joined my cousin and aunt for lunch. And, that night I wrote a story of our day, in a journal I'd bought to commemorate my mother.
I hope you are able to find a way to say goodbye to your mom that makes you laugh and cry, because you know she's proud of you!
Thank you for sharing this. I'll remember-no jeans, or at least, a change of clothes. But perhaps more importantly, I will remember the importance of keeping my sense of humor.
You're welcome. I know it It seems antithetical to keep your sense of humor when you're feeling so sad. But, if I remember correctly, it was the first time I'd laughed since my mother died. And, once I did, I felt like mama and I were connected once again.
Susan thank you for sharing such a beautiful, touching story.
Thank you Nancy! It was a long time ago, and I remember it like it happened yesterday.
My sincere condolences to Teri and Joyce. Both of your reflections regarding honoring your mothers remind me of my own, which also involved love of the sea and combining ashes and rose pedals. These mother stories are why Bill Harrison and I created an edited book: Saying Goodbye to Our Mothers for the Last Time. It has essays and photos by women and men who write about their various ways of dealing with the deaths of their mothers. Your story and Joyce’s would have been perfect for this book. I mention it, because the feedback we have gotten is that these stories have helped others during these trying times of transition from one state of consciousness to another. One day she is present physically and the next day she is not. No matter the type of relationship, this is a profound change in a son's or daughter’s life going forward. May you both find peace in your memories of your moms and how you managed to say goodbye.
Condolences to you and your family. Thank you for sharing. What you did was awesome! Sounds like a perfect farewell to your mom!
Thank you Diana-Sedona. It was perfect...for my mother and me!
So dear and thanks for sharing with the World.
Thank you!