I am fifty-two years of age. The same age of my mother when she died of breast cancer some seventeen years ago. Fifty-two! And, my life is so full of possibilites and endless potential.
For me this situation begs the question of whether our mothers, particularly, our mothers enliven the ultimate karmic sacrifice for their children, which is their death, so that their children can truly live?
I say this as the oldest of eight children. My mother had me when she was seventeen. In those times people married when the ‘accident’ occurred. This is striking in my mother’s situation because at the time, I am sure my mother was trying to expel her ‘demon’ of being a lesbian. She, at the age of sixteen in the early 50’s had not the words nor the cultural accumen to voice what she truly was. She therefore defined herself by her pregnancies until her rupture far into her adulthood. She then discovered her potentiality, her pride, and her voice in being herself, MABLE, just the way she was born.
Her death was untimely, but that what she knew was coming.
The tear of her death in my life will never go away. But, there is not a day that I am graced with her ability to see beyond the superficial and visialize something great for myself and my family.
And, so I live this day, knowing her maternal sacrifice which feeds the everyday discovery and evolution of the great potential of me…and my mother within me. I miss you Mommy!
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