Written to me and for me by my son, the morning after my mother (age 92) died.
An ounce of belief outweighs a world of knowledge.
This is my letter to encourage you today, the same way you have encouraged me even as you may have your own questions about my decisions.
I know writing this doesn’t do anything. What has been done cannot be undone. And I know that how you feel lies mostly inside you, which you have almost always protected me from.
I also know that I can’t put myself in your shoes, having never had such an experience.
I’ve felt the guilt of not talking about something even when every emotion in my body begs me to; of questioning whether I’ve disappointed those who have only wanted the best for me because I cannot quest down their path; of remembering every argument when I was wrong, and never got to set it right.
And still, I know its not the same.
Why I am writing this is because what I believe.
Its simple: Life is change.
Accepting it is the hard part.
What does life changing have to do with anything though? It’s easily brushed aside for its simplicity, but think it through with me. We know that the end of life is death, and now “death” is what we feel melancholy about. Death is so final, isn’t it? Well, that depends on how much you know, and how much you believe.
The crime, is that we miss someone when its too late. When they’ve passed on and already know everything you’re feeling. And if you just want to tell them one more time you love them, don’t worry about the words. 95% of communication is non verbal. You loved them more than just saying it, you acted on it. Just as you can read the things I do for you as “I love you”, they did just the same, and accepted your love as you accepted theirs. So think of their memory as you go throughout your day, behaving as you normally do because of how your life was influenced by theirs.
Nothing and noone is perfect. Guilting yourself into thinking you could have done “better” ignores one of their mottos you’ve passed on to me: “Living simply, so others may simply live.”