This I believe.
When my mothers last breaths were drawn, and the last beat of her heart gone, I believed. The nurse promptly turned off the monitor which we had watched intently for the past 7 weeks. Throughout my life I never believed. But on this day I did. I looked about the room through tear filled eyes, I saw my father across from me holding her hand crying much like me. Around my mother gathered my family each touching a foot or a hand. We cried for the loss of our mother and Dad for his wife of 50 years. We hugged each other still wanted to kiss Mom, and we did. Repeatedly.
And now I believe. Not in religion, not in a god, not in a country, not in a political party. No, not in anything that people, organizations, governments or news media believe. No not those things. Those do not matter. They can’t count. I saw what I believed. I saw in the preceding weeks. Staying at the waiting room in the ICU or being there. It is in every face. On each pair of eyes or hands. From a hug, a kiss, a kind reassuring word. How a people from a completely different walk of life can be just like my family. Immigrant, native born, catholic, hebrew or atheist. We all believe in that one thing. The love of our parents. Not just the love we have for them. But the love they have for us. I believe. I believe how it made my life. Changed my life. It made us all better. She balanced us. As individuals and as a family. Like the laws of physics balance the universe she balanced ours. Gave us the quiet strength which she had in immeasurable quantities. She showed us all how to live. Not by saying, by doing. Each time we were in her life she taught and nurtured us. And in so doing, taught each of us how to do the same. Love your sister, brother, father. Stop fighting. Don’t give up. Try again. She taught us like the ocean teaches the beach. One wave of love against the shore. One after another. Until we were all taught about love and life. Loving away the rough edges. But here in her waning weeks she taught more. About death. About dying. The grace and ease with which she faced her ebbing life. Mom said one night she didn’t feel bad if the procedure didn’t go well. Everybody tried so hard, I won’t be upset if this doesn’t work. But on this day, like so many before, the sun set. So now I see her love. In my sisters, in my brother, in my father and my nieces, nephews my brothers-in-law, my friends and her friends. It emanates from each of them now, just as it did from her. I believe in love, I believe in mothers, I believe in Mom. I believe in us. Family. Not just the one that is used by politicians as a slogan or battle cry. The family full of real love, hopes and dreams. No, not created by any god or government. The one that can only be created by love, by a mom. For us I believe in creationism of the highest sort. A mothers creation. A family full of love.
A mothers home is full of love. Ours is full. Thank you mom.
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