
In this space, I’ve stepped between the mossy threads of my own life. For many years, my mother who lived far from me kept up with my life through my blog. I’d started writing stonysoilvermont the summer my then-husband and I split up. I was about to publish my first book. Although I’ve considered quitting, I’ve kept on, the disciplined scraps of this writing feeding into my creative life.
So it seems right to acknowledge my mother’s passing over into the next realm. A woman of nearly indomitable strength, she was ill for many years and surmounted multiple surgeries and illnesses. But none of us are mortal. My mother, who was a nurse for decades, knew this more keenly than most people. When I was a girl, she returned every morning at breakfast with stories from the hospital, some funny and some heart-wrenching — a child with leukemia, a cab driver shot point-blank in his head. One July morning, she carried home an orange kitten. We named him Oliver, and he lived a long full cat life.
Same, too, with my mother, a woman whose strength and passion shaped my own. In her later years, disease made her wander back and forth in time, into places where none of us could follow. My mother would have wanted us to grieve the end of her life, but not to fall dramatically on our knees. Raised a Lutheran, she was imminently practical. Nonetheless, I remember when I was 21, and my mother grieved her own mother. She stopped all the clocks.
oh my goodness this is so beautiful and so sad. i am so sorry for your loss.
💚
How such beauty can emerge from such sadness… She would, I imagine, be greatly moved by this tribute. I know I am. And why not stop the clocks. This is a momentous loss. My heartfelt condolences to you.
Thank you.
I am very sorry for your loss, the loss of a mother is heartbreak of its own kind
Oh Brett. The loss of our mother does stop the clocks. I still have tearful moments after 5 years. Thanks for sharing from your life so honestly and hoping you are in the comfort of daughters and cats and friends and loved ones as you grieve and honor your mother. Hugs.
I appreciated when you shared your story, too. 💛
So sorry for this monumental loss. The suffering has ended and that is a gift.
As always, thank you.
Such a sweet, yet appropriately practical, tribute, Brett.
💚
I’m so sorry for the loss of your mother. What a lovely tribute to her. Love the idea of stopping the clocks – very poignant.
Poignant, indeed…
I’m so sorry for your loss. What a beautiful poem.
This moved me. The humanity of grief is so very humbling. Thank you for sharing this. I’m sorry for your loss.
Thank you for this.
I hope you are okay. It’s always hard, no matter what.
❤️