It’s funny to think that exactly 21 months after my birth, to the day, another baby came into being–just for me 🙂 Though our paths didn’t cross for some time, shifts were already taking place to weave our lives together–me at the sea, he in the city, New York.
21 years later, we celebrated his “birth” day together for the first time, and soon afterward, he became “mine.” Today, he turns 45.
It was on his 35th birthday, a decade ago, that my mother died, weaving our lives together even more–so that each year requires me to thread loss with gain–as if there is no separation between the two.
I haven’t quite mastered that lesson, but I’m on my way. If I can reclaim this grievous day of my mother’s passing as one of celebration of the gifts that her life (and his life) bring to me, I will truly know love.
This is a journey that began the summer she was dying when the blessing of a long-awaited child grew inside of me. This baby arrived “early” and my mom departed “late” so that their paths would cross for all to see–that life and death are from the same stream.
to be continued…