Grace. My mother. Today is her birthday and today we buried her ashes into dads grave. She loved dad with resolute commitment. What a fine woman, loving all those years, through the good, the bad, the mundane and all the other days too. Grace. My mother. At peace, laid to rest with dad.
We gathered, my sister and I, with some grandchildren, some of her great grand-children and some old family friends. It was bright sunny morning - the kind of morning mum loved.
We gave her perfect roses. She loved roses. We cried, we laughed, we shared stories. We loved. I read
Peace My Heart, in a loud clear voice, with tears in my eyes. We placed lots of photos, of all those she loved, with her. I placed a photo of Fummy, my cat, with a note from him, with her. She loved my cat. He loved the hell out of her. Later we all drank tea and ate cake, just the way she would have wanted us to. I wore her favourite perfume, so did my sister.
Good-bye my darling mother. I walk through my life with you in my blood and in my heart. If I have even a hint of your dignity, or your true kindness, or your amazing courage, I will walk proudly.
In celebration and gratitude for a life well lived and well loved. Grace, my Mum, the woman who helped heal my heart, my mind and my faith in love.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYMLMj-SibU
Peace My heart
Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.
Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain into songs.
Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest.
Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night.
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light your way.
Rabindranath Tagore, Bengali poet and philosopher (1861 - 1941)