Since losing Mom on the thirty first of May, I have thought about writing again. On days since, the ‘doings’ of each day seem slower…the taking of steps…the opening up the chest to breath. Every single thing looks different because she is no longer here, but more importantly, every thing looks different because she was here. Katherine Mary, Mom, our beautiful Kay, impacted everything.
Disheartened and overflowing with grief, Dad and I watch Storage Wars and the play offs and news from home (beautiful Alberta and the devastation of so much property and the heart ache of so many displaced families). We sometimes fight for a turn at the sink. We drive to Napanee for eggs benedict. We try to get through hymns at church, without crying.
A short while ago, I stepped out onto Bridge Street in the dark of night. The air, cooling, still felt heavy with humidity. The only sound was that of my own foot steps, Max brushing up against my legs as we walked together under large silhouettes of trees. We walked east for quite some time…then south…no moon. I knew it was there. And the stars were out. The clouds of the day time had pulled back just in time for me to witness the SUPER moon, an event shared on a variety of sites the past few days. But where was this moon?
We back-tracked to our starting place and then began in the opposite direction…west…then north…nothing…so, I decided to stand still. Looking up again, I doubted myself. I began to dismiss the possibility of this beautiful moon appearing at all. Wrong date registered in my mind? I stood still…doubting…but present. I was suddenly aware of the white wooden fence I was leaning against. I liked the air…a light scent of flowers mingled with green. Looking up, I saw a lighter shade of dark…and following that, suddenly noticed the brilliant white shapes almost shimmering behind the rustling leaves of a giant maple. We walked slowly in that direction where eventually, we came upon an opening between two grand trees and there it was…the most perfect moon I have ever witnessed, resting in the converging arms of the two giants. I stood there for some time, filled with more peace than I have felt in weeks.
I don’t always see that moon in the night sky, but it is there. When the beautiful river becomes a raging angry beast and the rain pours down, I can not see the sun…but it is there. That song that I wished to share with my mother this morning, my mother WAS that song.