eternal mother

Mom at three.i spent the last few days in the woods - at Earthsprings - same place i was last year at the same time. 0n the 26th of april, my circle of sisters in soul, marked the 1 year anniversary of my mother's crossing over ...with serious personal work on our inner selves and with a lot of laughing and playing. it was a great retreat - as they tend to be.

when i am with my spirit sisters it seems that the coldness and the aloofness of this 'unreal' world we inhabit day to day is blotted out. i feel that i am safe to be me and let go of the illusions the years have instilled in my ego-self.

i feel the warmth of the woods and the critters that live there are a deep part of me. it is as though i am truly at home when i am there.

i had no expectations and no preconceived ideas of what the weekend would bring for me in regards to my on-and-off depression.

for me it has not been a year since i lost my mama. it feels like yesterday and it also feels like it never happened at all. that she did not die.

there is a poem i recall that goes something like:

"Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, i do not sleep.

Do not sit at my grave and cry,

I am not there, i did not die..."

i don't know who wrote it. but to me it says that while the physical part of who i knew to be my mother is gone, her soul is now so joined with the universal spirit that she lives in everything.

she lives in each and every breath i take in and let out. she lives in my brother's eyes and my sister's hair. my mom lives in the sunrises and sunsets and lights up the night with her moon smile.

she fills the woods with wind and the ocean with waves. her face, once crunched in pain, now becomes a rainbow of lovely colors. the earth itself is full of her essence.

another little poem - one that mom used to read to me when i was very little - somehow feels appropriate as an honoring of her transformation. it goes like this:

"Little drops of water, little grains of sand

make the mighty ocean and the pleasant land.

Thus the little minutes, humble tho' they be,

make the mighty ages of eternity."

exhausted

exhaustion takes a toll
dropping to my knees i cry uncle
and agree i am done

folding into child's pose
i realize the goal of living is to
find the mortality

too tired to think of logic
i stretch arms outward into
the future sleep

i know this sounds a bit
like planning my escape but
not to worry

it takes a lot of strength
to stay alive sometimes and
yet i survive

stretch more now so i am
lying prone on the floor and
i see my soul

the darkness of it
becomes a soothing balm
for all the pain

seeing how that shadow
illuminates my body, & my brain
i let it light my heart

rolling over, now supine
everything in me is waiting
for my eye to open

so that i can clearly see

that grounded convergence

of the parts of me

and then i will feel IT

and then i'll be one with IT

then be free to rest

you MUST listen

Listen to this --->

I was a center director with Sr Citizens Svcs before i went into the data entry department at the central office.

I often miss the learning experiences i was gifted by the elders while i was there at the center.

This note is about what the whole group learned from one very special lady.
She is the stereo-typical MentalHealth impaired "street person" - schizophrenia - who wears as many of her clothes as she can at the same time, even in the summer; has a permanent-appearing scowl on her assymetrical face, and talks [often responding vehemently] to herself.
She was someone that others at the center seemed to want to ignore when she first started hanging around the community center. They did not know that she was a messenger.
That's probably the reason Spirit had me pursue her to join our group.
It took some time - greeting her daily when she would wander into the building. Helping her understand what i was asking from her: basically show up, give info for paperwork required, and get a good couple of meals each day. But what took longest was convincing her that she was REALLY WANTED!
I think she is not invited to do much...that she is accustomed to being ignored.
She gave in at last, saying "you really want me here?"

At first the other seniors just tolerated her. But they now have a great respect for her - she has proven to be a very active volunteer: cleaning up the table after lunch, decorating pictures for the wall.

Basically anything i would ask, she would do with dedication and earnestness.
But it is her voice that inspired awe in the whole group. I think that is what really won their hearts.

We had a program and she asked me if she could sing solo. I had not heard her, but i believe everyone who wants to sing should do it - with gusto.

So i said go for it [and prayed that the other folks would be kind if she did not stay on key or in tune].

And when she opened her mouth - well let's just say there is no ignoring her when she is using that gift. Her voice is amazing - deep and resounding and full of spirit!
She also used to wander in and out of the office [teaching me patience] throughout the morning. Sometimes she just want to be near; sometimes she was checking on my paperwork and [without the ability to read or write or add or ...] she would give me advice on how to "get it together" as she put it!

All of us need to be productive and to be appreciated.
Anyway, she came in one day and, in response to my telling her i had to do end of the month reports, she stated:

"Well you prob'ly got more days in this month than in the year round."
Now, considering the traumas i was experiencing in my personal life, that particular March did feel like an entire year; so she was right on the button - funny and even a bit profound when i read it again.
You have to at least listen, don 'cha? Voices come in all keys and notes and if you do not give them a chance to be heard, who knows what you might miss!
__________________________________________________

curiouser and curiouser

one of my mantras is 'how does it work?'; 'what's inside?'
i have had the need to see and know all things around me and beyond since i can recall taking breath.
i really needed to see those people in the radio. a soothing memory of my mom is her ironing, with the windows open, a fan oscillating and the radio tuned to"Stella Dallas" - a radio soap from the days when your imagination was allowed to make characters fit their voices and to 'see' with your ears and mind. i would be playing something quiet while she listened and she thought, i am sure, that i was oblivious to the story or actors. i held my curious head as long as i could - until the opportunity opened up for action. mom took some clothes into the other room and i hurried up onto the chair by the table that my 3 year old legs could not reach on their own.
i pulled the plastic and metal radio toward me and began to unscrew the little fasteners that held the back particle board onto it. i was just about to get the cover open when mom reappeared - and flipped out!
'stop' she shouted. 'you'll get shocked!' the thing was plugged in and of course she was right, now that i think on it.
but i was so disappointed. she had stopped me seeing those tiny, little faery-like people who lived inside that radio. why was she so nonchalant about listening in on them? did she not also want to see them?
i think that i grew curiouser and curiouser, a bit like Alice, as i got older.
i still keep the bits of my Cinderella watch that my granny bought me for my 6th birthday. it was so pretty and the second hand moved with such a precise rhythm bringing the other 2 hands along so very slowly. of course i needed to know what and how. it was easy to pry off the face. and the delicate, tiny parts that made up the time-ticking were just lovely. i really enjoyed exploring that watch. my main problem came though when i tried to put it back together. i couldn't. there were more pieces than when i began it seemed and the gear that should go here, would only fit next to the one over there...and you see the issues. i put it away with other things that somehow would not come back together, in the back of a sockdrawer somewhere.
in jr high we had to dissect a crayfish!
# 1 how gross is that?
#2 how gross is that for a vegetarian and animal lover?
Linn and i were lab partners. our victim had been kept in formaldehyde and tiny as it was, this creature had a really foul odor. so strong was the stench and the psychological effects of what we had to do, that Linn and i took turns with the whole activity. first she would do an organ removal, then go to the hallway to breathe while i went in to do the next cut.
the challenge [as if this wasn't enough] was to wrap up the parts, store them, and put them back in place the next day.
so we came in next afternoon and started our turn-taking routine and when we finished, there was an organ left over. see i told you there are more pieces when you start putting things back. well what could we do? we checked and re-checked, matched the parts in the book, held our breath and checked some more.
but nothing could be done for a dead, split crayfish with an extra organ. so we dropped the leftover piece into the ink-well in the old desk! next day the stench was still awful [DUH]. but we had turned in our 'project' and to our utter amazement we scored A's on it.
poor thing.
i still take things apart. jewelry that i remake into whatever shape interests me. movies that have no apparent end or that have intricate plots - got to fix those.
PEOPLE. i take people apart. mostly me. i take me apart. in dreams and stories. i over-think; analyzing everything i do and even what i think! :0(
over-think-analysis i believe it's called.
and the grief i have felt for so long now - i can not let go thinking it long enough to feel it or to integrate it. i keep taking it apart. maybe i should stick it in the back of the sock drawer too. or better yet, just drop it into the inkwell.
but even then i would still smell it.

the White Easter Peacock

here is another miracle - so appropriate for Easter too!

my friend lives on a goat farm and has many other animals living there. she has about 150 goats, 2 dogs, 5 cats, 1 LLama, and a rare WHITE PEACOCK who just appeared in the front yard one day about a year ago.

they have done nothing to encourage the bird, who is named BIRD, other than to talk to him and love him. they do not get special food for him - he eats goat food and other woodsie things he finds.

and he prances in the yard. he has a purpose for being there - i do not believe in coincidence or accidents - there is a cosmic purpose and Bird seems to know his.

he could leave as easily as he came but prefers to stay.

he sits on the roof {yes, of the house!} at night and sings out - we think for a mate or ??

when the baby goats stray from the protective pen just for the little ones, Bird uses his beak to herd them back into safety ... and he is VERY insisitent. i visited the farm last night and got to feast on the sight of this gorgeous creature with his snowy countenance and pure white, gleaming feathers. many quills lay where they have moulted out, and it is a bit like snow in the yard.

when i got home i decided i would see what powers and characteristics, what medicine this animal brings with it. so i opened the computer this morning to see what i could find.

i checked my email first and there he was...a picture i could swear is Bird, himself.

Sent by AngelFeather. it shows this wonderful guy in all his splendor and A-F had written how beautiful she finds him - so of course i wrote an URGENT note to her as MBO has again provided powerful magic.

i went on the net after that looking for info and am including a few of the charms of white peacock here ~

a feast for your own Resurrection on this Easter weekend.

"The peacock reminds us to see the beauty in all aspects of life.The Splendid Peacock possesses the following virtues: Respect, honor and love, long lasting relationships, seeing and knowing, protective power, dignity," ...

Thank you, Spirit, God....i needed that!

bumps in the night

I was, as usual, reluctant to go upstairs to bed, even though my mom and dad had told me I definitely could not stay up and watch “the Whistler”…a 1950’s detective series that began with a dark scene and a man off screen whistling…just whistling.
And being 6 or 7 was too young they said.
I was more curious than fearful and I tried every night to get a glimpse of the show. I sloooowly climbed the stairs peeking through the railing to try to see it.
Middle of the night came and I had a feeling of being approached. I felt something, some presence on the stairway though I could not see it from my bed. I listened and heard nothing. I asked me if I was awake and as far as I could determine I was.
But I could not bring myself to go look or to call out to my parents. So I lay there and waited.
Minutes later a shadow crept towards my open door. I could see it on the wall across the hall from me. I can still see the figure – a man I, wearing a trench coat and a hat that was the style back then. He had both hands stuffed into his pockets [amazing huh? that I could tell that from the shadow, but I swear that is what I saw]. As he came closer my fear froze me in place.

His shadow stepped toward my door and seeing it, I pulled the covers up over my head and prayed HARD.
I felt him come to the foot of my bed [how? I dunno]. I felt him look down on me. And then I slept.
Rather anti-climactic I guess. Next day I asked my little brother whether he heard or saw anything and he had no idea what I was talking about. I never mentioned it to my folks as I instinctively knew they would never let me watch the Whistler if they thought I was seeing things [which they already thought anyway].
So I dropped it and I do not recall ever seeing an episode of that show.
All a matter of childhood imaginings, right? Just a story remembered from long ago.
Fast forward to about 1 month later … summertime in the projects and lookin' for something to do. My brother and I ask if we can help our 15 year old neighbor baby sit and we get the ok. So we are ‘helping’ when one of the boys, about my age tells Charlotte, the sitter, that he is afraid and to please come upstairs.
We all go up and charlotte sits on a chair, I stand with my brother. The boy, Johnny, faces us [and the window] telling us how he felt. Then he glances up towards the window, screams and runs downstairs.

We all take off right behind him with no one looking back. When he calms down, he says he saw a man looking in at us. He can not give a description, but he is so sure that Charlotte calls his parents home and they call the police who say they've had other, similar reports in that area.

the police come and check it out - footprints on the roof of the porch cover below the window of Johnny's room. Also in the attic and connecting crawlspace in the apartments.
I have no idea what came of the search - we did not see the man again nor did i see the shadow of the trench coated man again.

Now for the most "hmmm?!" part of this whole little tale.

Fast waaay forward to 1978 when i am working at the FWSS. my co-worker & i became friends and had one of those 'finish-the-other's-sentence relationships. we had many of the same or similar feelings and thoughts on life in general.

so we were talking one day about our childhoods.

When SHE was 7, the very same shadow that i saw, visited her, too. We were the same age so that means she saw him during the same period of time i saw him - i lived in dallas at the time & she in a town in the northern U.S.

HHMMMM?!?
Just little bits of what makes life so very interesting. I feel somedays as though, when i awaken each morning, it is with a bit of trepidation mixed with a huge heap of 'oh boy - what's the joke today?'; and it is so great that i have people with whom to share these strange and funny experiences.

Red (& black & white) tape ; more D and me

of course there's redtape for any 'wedding' but ours was an elopement and for that i guess i am both grateful and sad - it would be so nice to have a real hullabaloo, swinging time,with all our friends and loved ones.

but circumstances and attitudes prevented that out-loud joy...instead we had a joy-on-the run sort of thing. i almost lost David when he heard we had to have blood tests [yes in those days dear children those about to do the deed had to have physicals and blood tests]. David hates blood and needles so he says maybe .... and i am like maybe nothin'. We will have BLOOD one way or another. once i commit to something i tend to take it through. so he gave up and offered his finger for a prick [just for little ol me].

That done, we went to get a license. interesting. 4 staff people behind the counter and none busy, but, none came forward to wait on us for a looooong time. had D and i been other sorts of people we might have jumped the desk and demanded attention ... but we waited. finally a brave worker came over and begrudgingly sold us a marriage license...i wondered if she was ostracized after by her co-workers. very brave of her to actually register a black man and white woman to marry in that day and age.

This of course, if i've not mentioned it, was our reason for eloping. David's dad liked me though we'd only met a couple of times. His mom did not. My mom however took it to a new level when she threatened to shoot David if he did not go away [mind you she has never owned a weapon, nor been violent in the time i knew her]. and since i was then 21 and living in my own place there was not much she could do. my brother was very supportive of my being happy and said as much ~ he was loyal and wrote to us often when we were away. My dad said "you are my daughter and as such, i know i would not be deterred by what others say, so ....do what makes you happy."

next up was where would we go to marry? recall i told you we were both naive folks and really did not have a clue about a lot of life. SOME of it we learned quickly the hard way. we had some friends who had gotten married the year before by one of our professors. So we asked him and he did not want to set a precedent and felt it would not do to be the marrying professor. We looked in the phonebook for justices of the peace etc. on TV it always seemed easy to elope - just drive to a small town and there would be a little old guy who served as mayor, sheriff and justice all at once. but in real life it was not working that way.

so on monday morning, 3/23/70, we went to school {TCJC} and found our friend Mike C. he was licensed as a minister for the Church of Universal Life. Under a little tree outside the S.U.B., on the campus, we were wed, at 10:50 am, between classes. Just the 3 of us present.

(When mom heard who had married us she hoped that it was illegal - this was in a letter begging me to come 'home' and that she would pay for a divorce and not say another word ever about this 'thing'. Mike was in the newspaper years later in a story about how many folks he had married and how some folks thought it was illegal but it was not and on ... anyway mom had to accept that we were LEGAL, though that was the least of our issues.)

after our wedding we spent the night with friends then went to each family the next day to share our 'good' news. well that is when mom talked about her shotgun...and D's mom just stared. then we hit the road for LA. David's g'pa lived there in Englewood and we decided to surprise him :0). THAT was interesting too.

BUt first - the road trip. oh the days of full service gas stations and 35 cent bread. have you ever stopped for $3 worth of gas [ a lot in those days], given the attendant a five, and waited simply to have him pocket it and stand leaning on a pump staring off into space?

Yeah - bless Buddha ... first do no harm. we sat a minute, each of us contemplating the outcome of anything other than driving on our way...so awaaaaay we went. $2 poorer, but in peace and not pieces...this one actually had a gun in his station window.

along the way we had a lot of glares and stares and occasional we 'don't serve your kind here' remarks. and there was the one pickup driver who swooshed by us on the highway just to slow way down and shake his rifle at us.

violent attitudes are best met with calm, quiet. i instinctively knew this and we both refused to be drawn into the mire of ugliness that seemed to be everywhere we went.

It was still a good trip - newlyweds making their way across country, stopping only for necessities. Spent one night in the desert as we had no idea how far the next town would be and we were near a gas station that would be closed until 5 am. So we slept in our good old impala with the pillow and blanket we had brought with us...and all felt right in that space of time...our world was one of love and tranquil dreams.

April 5, 2009

i am sitting here writing when i would like to be on my way home from a wonderful women's retreat at Earthsprings. i chose not to go as i am going to the intensive retreat on the last weekend of this month and i think i will need that one even more as it will be exactly one year after my mom's crossing-over and that is where i was - earthsprings - when i got the call that she had gone on / that's where i was surrounded by sisters who totally sat with me in the shock [even when you know it is coming it is always a shock].
MELH: if you had any ?'s about why you changed the dates of the intensive, look no further - it was spirit acting again to move Andrew's needs into play to prevent you being at Earthsprings on the original dates. it was spirit, knowing that he needed you and that i need you all.
therefore we will be.
so gratitude to God, cosmos, spirit...and to all those folks who said we will wait for MELH to have the intensive retreat. Thank you.
i am sitting here on the bed - have not been far from it since thursday last --> had to work at home friday due to internet issues at the job...so i just sat around working on my laptop, which means i did not go far from the bed. then sleep overcame me - i know = a symptom of depression / well no one is surprised at that - and i spent part of my 'work' day sleeping. so i worked more on saturday - that is, when i could keep my eyes open.
at least i am aware that i am feeling some heaviness at the approaching death-date of mom. at least i can say yeah i have issues and i need my circle to help me. i talked with David a bit and he said it is understandable - from a man who generally replies "ungh" to my 12 sentence paragraphs, that is a lot. it means a lot to me.
i am sitting on this bed having recently finished a post on Hellen and my pain that is on-going regarding her death and the ensuing criminal aspect and the fact i may have to go to court to testify and the fact that part of me wishes so much that there will be a trial so that the responsible party, who, i understand from reports, behaved VERY irresponsibly that evening, will at the minimum have to speak to what she did; maybe apologize - to me!
the other part of me is afraid that she will have to go to jail if it is considered criminal negligence and that is something i do not wish for anyone's child. neither do i wish that any parent outlive their child ... it was like aparent-daughter relationship for me and Hellen. so i am conflicted. and i wish to have this burden lifted frommy weary shoulders. being part camel does come in handy does it not, LittleHawk?
i sit here on the covers wanting to go back under and to hide some more - it only last week occured to me that this is APRIL. and i went right back into the DABDA cycle [from "Death and Dying"]. i denied it was even april...calendar says different though.
and so i will face april and all it brings. i know there will be many lovely flowers to photograph and play with on the computer editing thingy. i know my neice will have her birthday and graduation and that is so grand. i know my grandson is readying for driving lessons and my oldest g'daughter is doing extra credit in the summer to get a jump on her forensic science studies. i am looking forward to seeing our youngest 2 g'babes in florida this june and their mommy whom i love....that will help my heart just to get those hugs and kisses.
and yet i sit here once more unable to really DO anything more than is absolutely necessary. i would rather not eat than have to leave here to get food [again thank God for David who is gathering food right now for us-we are really into those roles right now: he, the hunter and gatherer and me, the nester and ???].
i would rather type this unending story of unfinished business of life and death than to get up and go live a life.
do i get credit for admitting that? were you ever told when you were young that GOD sits on a throne with a big book of life and takes names and gives +'s and -'s for good and bad? did you ever think that was a lot like what santa does too? i do digress. i am simply sharing my thoughts as they come - i think that is what the professor in my "extraneous writing" class at UTA was trying to teach me.
i like ' stream of conciousness' better, but again i wander.
and so i sit and type and thank you my readers i feel a bit better. looking forward a bit to being with my circle and to the other adventures i mentioned.
and finding some weird joy in missing my mom; for if i miss her being here with me as a physical presence then i must have felt SOME love from her and i must have felt love for her even when we were so estranged and confused. i know that i love her now in this moment and that is the most important part of my being - the here and now...mom even said that in her 'dementia' -
"i only know that i am here, now."

Hellen, champion

i have always thought of myself as small - little. Now, i can see and i do look in the mirror now and again...i compare me to others and see i am a bit larger [ :0) ] than some. i think the 'Little Linda' comes somewhat from how my dad always saw me - his baby.

But it comes mainly i think from my tendency to put others ahead of me and to feel myself small in the big scheme of the whole karmic thing.

but i always felt like a giant when i was with Hellen.

it was just how she looked up to me and at the same time i looked up to her...guess we both became giants when we were together. i miss her very much.

i met Hellen in 1982, at Crossroads - a residential facility for folks from 1 -> 18 with some degree of mental retardation. I was a special ed teaching asst. for BISD and we went in daily to do training with the residents. Hellen was 12 years old with a smile as bright as the sun, a personality that found humor in almost everything and the kind of beauty that goes soul-deep. we clicked immediately - we became friends quickly. and though her mental age was somewhere between 3 and 5, we were level when it came to spirit and heart. simply put, we loved each other unconditionally.

there were times when Hellen's behavior [sometimes acting out as a call for attention, other times because - i believe - she was over medicated or mis-medicated] interfered with her education and changed her personality. there were times when she would listen and respond only to me & would not cooperate with others.

when crossroads closed in 1984 or so i became Hellen's official Advocate - had to wait until i did not work with her to get around the 'conflict of interest' rule. being her advocate meant i went to meetings about her treatment and educational plans and i was the one to approve any medical procedures. but the best part was that our relationship could continue to grow.

in 1987, when Hellen turned 18, she was no longer a ward of the state and needed a guardian. of course i had no money to afford court and attorney fees but i was really worried when i heard that they would send her back to her birth county and appoint a neutral person to act as guardian.

that was a future i did not want for her. yes her parents lived in corsicana but they were unable to care for her - both parents were mild -> moderately retarded and the state had taken her when she was very young.

i mentioned my concerns and sadness at not being able to see her if she went away. someone in mhmr, some caring person, made it known that i would like to assume guardianship if i could afford it.

that was all it took - the intent and love was put out into the universe and spirit acted! attorneys volunteered their services, the court waived all fees, and the county even sent me gas money to travel to corsicana to appear in court.

everything went well and i became her legal guardian on December 13, 1987, her 18th birthday. for 24 years we knew each other she was already a member of our family by '87. in '92 when my granddaughter, Rashida, was born, Hellen delighted in telling all the staff & residents at the small group home where she lived that she had a NIECE! she was so proud. And when Tyehimba came along 11 months later she told everyone about her nephew. our son called her sister. Hellen was such an integral part of our family - both David's folks and mine - that if we attended a gathering & she was not with us everyone asked about her.

but, as my mom became ill and alzheimers got a grip on her i was able less often to take Hellen out for visits and parties and such. Everyone missed her. but i did not have the energy to deal with my mom in a wheelchair and with Hellen's needs too~while she had no major physical disabilities she did need to be reminded to zip her pants after toileting, to refrain from her favorite curse words while at my mother-in-law's house, and to put one foot in front of the other when walking: stuff that takes a great deal of patience; something i was running low on at the time.

on nov 3, 2006, i came home from work and reached for the phone to call & tell Hellen that i would be able to bring her 'home' for thanksgiving. before i could pick it up it rang. and my world changed forever.

Hellen was at harris hosp, bedford. i was needed there. i could not get a lot from the hospital staff person who called but i needed to know what was happening. the woman finally said Hellen died.

just like that. a little over a month prior to birthday # 37. just as i was planning to invite her to our holiday feast. just...i called a friend who drove me to the ER and found that she had drowned!!! of all things. in a bath tub. seems her supervising staff had left her there, alone, in the water, and she had a seizure - grand mal. she drowned. alone.

she lay on the gurney in the ER with tubes still coming from her nose and mouth, blood around the edges. signs of obvious attempts to revive her. she did not move...so still. a gentle smile seemed to hover just around her lips. her eyes were closed, her hands, cold. i waited a long time for her to get up. she did not move. staff from the home and from mhmr were all around and crying and i was dry eyed - why should i cry about something that was NOT HAPPENING!"?

there was a chaplain there and she emptied the room except for my friend, herself, Hellen and me. she prayed with us and it was so lovely a prayer that i could swear she knew Hellen. she said she could feel her sweetness and that it was obvious she was greatly loved. my friend suggested i have a moment alone with her...my sunshine child.

so they left me and Hellen to say our physical path goodbyes. as i sat and held her hand i saw and felt the last lingering bits of her energy-spirit floating away. it was the first time i have witnessed such a crossing over - though her human/physical body had already stopped and her brain no longer functioned there was just a little of her essence still hanging around. i think waiting for me to say 'i love you' one more time in person and to help me begin to grieve.

the days after were so blurred and uncertain - it fell to me to make the 'arrangements'. the funeral director told me that many times a guardian in situations such as these just walks away. that the actual official relationship of guardian ended at her death.

BUT OUR BOND DID NOT END OUR LOVE AND GOD-CONNECTION DID NOT END and so i told him she is family and i will not leave her.

a friend helped me tread those waters of choosing plots and boxes and dresses and ... and her body was buried. our whole family came to the service along with many friends and staff. there were so many tears. so much sadness at her crossing but so much joy in her life.

it seems wrong to lose someone so young. i had been making plans for what Hellen's future without me, after my death, would be. plans that now are not needed. that does not seem right - but spirit knows and there are reasons and other plans i know nothing of.

memories ~~~one of Hellen's passions was participating in Special Olympics and i am going to have one of her medals engraved into her marker. her specialty was the sprint and that consisted of her trotting along with or behind the other runners and me on the side-lines running along trying to coerce her into moving just a bit faster. of course it did not matter what her time was or what place she took....she would always win with us. one year as Hellen ran-trotted, she noticed a girl 'running' a few feet behind her.

to a "regular" athlete this would be good - that she would not take last place.
but to Hellen it meant someone was getting left behind. She turned, went back and took the young woman by the hand, saying 'come on now', and helped that other athlete to the finish line.

there is no doubt in my mind that Hellen was, is and always will be a Champion ... maybe the Grand Champion of all time.

[ note: as of this date - april, 2009, - the case is still being investigated ... they are doing the grand jury to determine if criminal charges should be brought against the staff person who left her to drown in the tub. i am still awaiting word as that is part of the grief - the not knowing and not being allowed to let go of that part of it.

i just want to be able to focus on healing and that means umimpeded mourning. and that will come. someday.]