I’ll love you forever

I’ll love you forever… By:Heide AW Kaminski © 2003 “She peacefully went to sleep last night and just didn’t wake up this morning.” The words on the screen shape shifted as water rushed up to my tear ducts. “No!” I screamed and then… “no.” I whispered. My oldest daughter rushed into my office. “What’s the matter, mom?” “My mother died this morning…” I sobbed. I hadn’t seen her in nine years. I hadn’t spoken to her in two years. I lived thousands of miles away, in the USA, while she lived in Germany. It got to be too expensive to visit her and eventually she asked me to stop calling her as her failing hearing made it impossible to hear me over the phone. Around the time I turned 35 I forgave her for having been the terrible mother she was. By then I had moved too many miles away to make up for the years of silence between us. By then she was deteriorating and confronting her about our past seemed to be more destructive for her than healing for myself. So I let it go. And then she deserted me again. She just died… She didn’t wait for me to scrape up the money to come and see her and say good-bye, as it was clear that she was preparing to leave this realm. My husband, children and I held a little memorial service for her in my front yard. I played an old song by the “Spice Girls”. It was about the kind of relationship I desperately wanted to have with my mother. The chorus is “Mama I love you, Mama I care, Mama I love you. Mama my friend, my friend.” We burned pink candles. I did a ribbon ceremony. I braided three pink ribbons, one represented her, one represented me and one represented the love between us. Then I unbraided them as a symbolic setting free of her spirit. Just as Jesus asked God “Forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.” I forgave my mother for the pain she caused me for often she did not know what she was doing and then I asked her for forgiveness for my reaction to her acts. She wanted a little girl made of sugar and spice and everything nice. I was a tomboy and a rebel. We caused each other a lot of heartaches and pains. Then I read a poem about summerland, which a friend had written especially for this ceremony. Following that I read the 23rd psalm. A dear friend of mine, who volunteered to be my substitute mom, had asked me to include this. Finally I read the book “I love You Forever” by Robert Munsch. Reading the passage about the grown-up boy rocking his ailing mother, saying “ I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, As long as I’m living my Mommy you’ll be.” was the hardest part of the ceremony. Despite all the pain she caused me, she is still my mother and I love her. I hope that now, on the other side, free of pain, anger, hate and frustration she will love me the way I so desperately needed all of my life. We closed the ceremony by burying the ribbon and planting a pink rose bush. I never had a green thumb. I can kill a plastic plant. My mother on the other hand always could bring a dead leaf back into growing into a luscious plant. I hope she will help me keep the rosebush alive. My ex-husband, a wizard with wood, promised to make me a plaque. I went through my photo albums and picked the happiest photo I could find of my mother and I. It will be on the plaque. When all is finished I will send a laminated photo of our memorial to my brother to place on her real grave. Mom, I never could do what you expected of me. I was always a rebel and I always had to do the opposite of what you desired. Tonight I will peacefully go to sleep. But tomorrow I will wake up. To find more of Heidi’s work, check out the following: http://www.imaginationsoars.com http://www.interfaithspirit.org/newsletter/articles.htm http://www.topica.com/lists/SarcasticWomen Return To: Summer 2003 Issue