Tuesday, June 24, 2014

I Wrote Good-Bye Letters

I'm not superstitious,
at least I don't think I am.

My mother was,
though she wrapped it in Scripture,
her Faith,
and in her mind it wasn't superstition.
It was just part of being a believer.

She believed 
with her whole heart 
that the 
"power of life and death was in the tongue."
This was why she NEVER said she had cancer,
even as the surgeon told her it was cancer,
even as she asked me what hospice care was,
even as she lie on her deathbed.

If she said "I have cancer"
"my cancer"
then she was giving it power.

This was my mother's mindset.
I disagreed with her, 
 and we would argue.

One day,
 I told her we just needed to agree to disagree.
And we never spoke of it again.
 I loved her so much.
I miss her.

So I always save any voice messages Don leaves me, 
especially when he travels to East Africa.
I don't erase them until he is safely home.


And when I travel far away,
with or without Don
I write a good-bye letter to each of my children,
my son-in-law,
my grandchild
and my husband.

I write what's on my heart.
Words of encouragement,
sharing my love for them,
my hopes for their futures,
reminding them of their 
infinite value to me 
and to the world.


I do this, 
not out of FEAR.
I do this out of REALITY.
Anything can happen,
to any of us 
at any time.

I don't want to leave anything left unsaid.


I go to the worse case scenario in my mind.
I write my words.
Place the papers in an envelope,
seal it 
and place it on my nightstand
beside my bed.


Then I let it go.
And then I'm ready to fly away. 

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