The Spirit of Liberty

Exactly one year ago today, we buried my mother. Her tragic passing has been on my mind a lot this week. In the wake of that sudden loss, I've searched for answers, pondered the past, and questioned what we could have done to prevent it. However, all of that ruminating has faded from view as I have sought to honor her memory over the past few days.

I feel disappointed that, in general, our society does not have more poignant ways of preserving the memories and legacies of our loved ones. Quite frankly, we do a terrible job of remembering those who came before us. Their entire life's trajectory just evaporates over time. I want to do better than that. I want to find ways of preserving and memorializing my mother and anyone else I lose over the course of my life. I want to teach my children stories of the people who came before them.

In other cultures, it is quite common to honor the spirit of your ancestors. In some societies, it is totally normal to pray, reflect, or meditate upon the spirit of your ancestors, seeking them for guidance. As skeptical and critical as I can often be regarding all things religious, I can say with honesty that.... I get it. I understand that reflex, to seek your ancestors even when they're long gone.

Where is my mother now? Does her spirit remain with me, or is she just alive in the recesses of my heart & mind? I don't know. Does it matter?  Whether she abides as a spirit, or she just abides in my memory.... she's there. She means something to me. Some people would say she was "larger than life". Instead, I'd say she was always more mythological than motherly -- she was always more fiction than fact.  She was a character, an embodiment of something greater. And I want to honor that; I want to find a way to cherish her with my actions.

So, in an effort to preserve my mother's memory, my little family made a trip to the beach on the day of her passing. When I was a child, my mom would often take me to the beach to gather shells. In honor of that, Eisley and Maebry gathered shells to place around her gravestone, and we spent the day having fun and visiting relatives in the area. In this way, I believe we created a ritual that would honor her in a way that fits her. This is what she would have wanted.

Throughout this week, I've also paused to reflect on what she meant to me.
She taught me to seek beauty.
She taught me to be expressive.
She taught me to be unashamed of who I am.
She taught me to be free. Really, truly free.

My mother is the spirit of liberty in my life. Her body rests in the soil of Onslow County, but her spirit resides upon the waves. Her spirit walks the shoreline, and her spirit walks with me too. I want to celebrate her, and the liberty she imparted upon me. I want to teach my children who she really was, and I want to show them how to cherish the loved ones that leave this world.

Thank you for reading On Letting Go, a blog about dealing with the wounds of the past. If you're looking for a little background on what inspired this blog, check out the introduction.  Click here for information on how you can find real and qualified mental health services for yourself or a loved one.