mom's death Archives - meagan burns

December 10, 2015December 11, 2015

I’m 50!

I recall with a pang in my breath the times my mother mentioned Christmas was not the same without her mother. I barely flinched, I may have flashed an eye to meet hers, but rarely did I extend compassion to my mom when she spoke of such things. More than likely I returned to my own desperate thoughts of yet another devoid holiday season.

I recently realized I was on that same self-inflicted, torturous path, even though I’m a long ways from home. My mom has been gone for almost three years and so far this “joyful” season was kicking my ass. I stood last week in the center of San Miguel as the decorations went up. Mom would have liked that, I said under my breath, as I turned and walked flatly away. It’s just weird without her.

I still reach for the phone most Sundays to call her; it’s become my missing limb with it’s phantom feelings; she’s not there. My brothers are not speaking to me, most of my family is dead or very distant, and I forgot to have a daughter who will hold my hand as I lay dying. The world has gone crazy-violent, the Republicans are hell-bent on destroying any shred of decency remaining in my country, and chemicals, pollutants and plastics are choking the earth to death. Whoa is me, this is all made a just tad worse by the fact that I am alone once again, ooooooh whoa is me.

I tumbled into a dark rabbit hole for a number of days, sad and weepy, deep in the clutches of grief. It has turned cold in Central Mexico, so I crawled under a mountain of blankets and stayed there; highly unusual for me. I’ve orchestrated this highly solitary life and it is no longer working for me. And oooohhhhh my gawd, my birthday, the big FIVE-O is approaching, aaah boy, hand me another hanky.

Sunday morning I awoke with tears streaming down my cheeks, but everything felt different. I could see colorful, brilliant, twirling lights in the corners of my eyes; something I used to see quite often as a kid, but not so much as an adult. I used to called these lights “fairies”, although I really have no clue. They do however, make me feel better; they generate heat within. I stood up and noticed things looked brighter, so I karate chopped my way out of my bedroom, “I live in Saint Michael’s town and I have a bazillion things to be grateful for, just LOOK at how well I can karate chop my way around the house!!” I got dressed and ran down the hill to dance class; I felt a pep in my step and was eager to move. My eyes were full from the idea of tears, as I glanced at some new and familiar faces in Sunday’s ecstatic dance class. The song, “Hallelujah” came on. It poured over me like a waterfall.

Yes, I’m going to be fifty years old and how fucking amazing is it that I am still alive?!? How tremendous is it that I am dancing like a champ in the ballet room of Bellas Artes, in the middle of Mexico!?!?!? And hallelujah to be free of a relationship that has been wearing me down ever since it started?!?! I love the cows of Rancho Santo Niño! I love my strong legs! I love my jibbly belly! I love my dog! I love Mexico! I love the United States! I love Donald Trump! I love my artwork! I love my energy!!

Uhhhh ok I would love for Donald Trump to shut his racist cake hole and go away forever. This is where delusion and optimism come in handy.

On and on I pranced, HALLELUJAH my forties are over! I hid out for so many of them; I tried so hard to be invisible, but nothing worked. I hated myself and wished I were dead. The gravity of these sentiments is not lost on me, ever; it wakes me in the wee hours of the night, but throughout the years, I honestly thought I was quite deficient. I was always buzzing in a quiet desperation to find a cure outside myself, but in the meantime I distracted myself with a number of mind-numbing pacifiers because — well, because get me out of this pain now.

I struggled over a lot of things my forties. I felt awful about a marriage to a man I should not have married. We liked each other a lot, we still do, but we never once worked as a couple, and so I strayed, before we divorced. I was wracked with guilt, angry too. I was a failure. I crawled back to Illinois with my tail between my legs and worked for awful people because they helped punish me when I fell short. I didn’t care about my future, I didn’t want to travel, I didn’t want to learn anything new, I had zero interest in any long term goals. I deserved no happiness.

I hope it’s not too late.

Then my mom got sick and needed me. She was going down for the count and reached for my hand like never before. She apologized to me. She told me she was very sorry she had not been nicer to me and had deep regrets. “I wish I had been nicer to you Meag.”

With those words, my mom healed a thousand and one wounds; I can picture myself falling slow-motion backwards through a time warp as these words penetrate. My focus went from staring deep inside my jagged soul, to turning around and looking at the horizon out in front of me, “There it is, my death, over there towards the horizon. I better live the best damn life I can possibly live before I reach my horizon.”

It’s true, I fell into a rabbit hole, what with the coming holidays, my approaching half-century birthday, the holidays without my mom nor family, and dang I forgot to have a kid, and well, why not have another holiday as a singleton…. oy vey, the grief is huge.

Although, none of this matters if I slather on the right combination of denial, delusion and optimism, because I have the greatest gift inside my heart; my mom’s blessings.

She set me free and I will be forever grateful, even if she did wait until her deathbed — but oh my she finished strong. It’s time to get busy living or get busy dying, as they say in prison. Don’t forget the denial — fake it til I make it is in full swing right now.

San Miguel de Allende is a lot of things, and it is also a city full of women who have come to re-invent themselves after the divorce, the retirement, the breakup, the failure, the success; this path has been blazed many times, but never duplicated. I am in the right place, at the right time, at the right age.

So let’s dance…

Thank you Fairies!

Thanks Ma!
Love you like a diamond! xx

Happy Birthday to my brothers Sean & Kevin too, I love you both wherever you are! xx

February 6, 2015May 8, 2015

Broken Hearts Club

How I lost my lifelong membership to this club….

It occurs somewhere around mid-to-early-January, the drug stores aisles turn to a sea of red hearts, teddy bears and ageless chocolates, buttering us up for the next major holiday, Valentine’s Day. This day that will always undoubtedly prove the currency of my self-worth by the amount of Made-in-China crap purchased for me on this glorious rose-filled day. And oh! I need to make room for all the roses! I have personally always been a huge fan of this mid-winter test of my self-esteem.

*ahem* Noooooooooo, no I have not.

I don’t think I’ve ever had an awesome Valentine’s Day, in fact the only giggle-inducing-memory I have of this day was a first date with a boy in Mill Valley, California and we were at a pizza joynt that was slinging heart-shaped pizzas for the night. When the waiter finally came around to take our order, I began to ask questions and make special requests, à la Meg Ryan from “When Harry Met Sally“. The waiter was not having this on this very busy night and leaned over to be eye-to-eye with me, pointed his finger in my face and said rather sternly, “YOU SAID YOU WERE READY.” I turned beet red and ordered the veggie pizza. I kept my mouth shut… for a little while. The boy and I laughed about that for many months and I still use that line on occasion.

Although I never have been fired in this month — and I have been fired A LOT, February is the month that my divorce became final several years ago (February 15) and the month my mom passed away (February 13, two years ago). These hits to my heart turned out to be the hits that have helped me to grow up, wake up and move towards becoming the person I always hoped to be. It has been awful, lonely and tremendously sad, but in hindsight, the gift of crawling on my hands-and-knees through my emotional thunderstorms and muck has helped to shape me in the most profound and prolific ways.

I haven’t always been strong enough to weather my emotional storms; as a young woman I chose to drown my sorrows in a torrential downpour of booze and pills, and it truly is not easy for me to admit that on not one but two different occasions, I attempted to end my life with pills because the pain was unbearable — or so it felt. I was begging God to take me and found a way to get there, or perhaps I knew it was just enough to be a seriously loud cry for help. Looking back, both of these experiences seem like two very different yet terrifying out-of-body experiences. Even though I survived these attempts to snub out my life prematurely, I recall being terribly embarrassed that I was still here, oh my, I felt bad that I was still here. After the first time, I spent a few months in a hospital and I honestly loved my time there — my eyes were open for the first time in my life and it was incredible. The second time, my dad had me arrested and I spent time in a jail in Phoenix. Not long, but long enough to make a huge impression.

I think back to the Meagan I was and I can literally cry out loud for her, I was so lost and unclear about everything in my life. Heartbreaking, in a word, for me to think about these parts of my past, but also inspires me to never take a moment for granted. I now literally kiss the ground on occasion because I am so grateful to be here and to be given these opportunities to live life at the top of my lungs. I am still here. This is not lost on me at all.

Throughout my entire life, I have always thought there was something wrong with me. I was constantly searching for answers and seeking solutions to help me feel better and to feel right in my head. Even with ten years of sobriety, I struggled to feel at peace with myself, although I practiced and studied a number of healing modalities and therapies that for me, never really made much of a dent to lower the noise and restlessness I had in my head. I was always running, always searching, always asking, always researching for something to make me feel better. Nothing worked.

I eventually gave up and settled on living on the fringes once again, when I moved back to Chicago after the divorce. Meh, I didn’t care anymore, I was going to coast this thing out. I had been hiding out my entire life and now it seems that would be my lot in life…. to hide in the shadows and hopefully not be seen.

Two years ago, my mom became drastically sick. Well, she had been sick for years, but did her best to ignore all of it. But now she needed help, it was much larger than her. Everyone was gone, it was just she and I. My mom didn’t really like me to be around; we never did do well in the same room together, and it was not uncommon to go several months without seeing each other, even though we were neighbors. We spoke often and cared for each other deeply, we just knew our limits, mostly. These avoidance tactics went out the window when she got sick and I essentially walked away from my Chicago life when the call came in.

I will never forget the words my mom said to me, even though I brushed them aside at first. Sitting on the edge of her hospital bed, gripping the railings in an attempt to ease her excruciating pain, she turned back slightly to look at me and said, “I was wrong about you, Meag. I’m really sorry I was not nicer to you. I wish I was nicer to you. (lonnnnnnnng pause) I’m sorry Meag.”

Once I recovered from the funeral and whatnot, I awoke to discover that my mom’s words literally words melted a steel cage that had always lived around my heart and my life has since changed in every way possible since her deathbed apology. Well, actually I thought I was having a heart attack and ran to see my doctor, who told me I was trapped in a panic attack. Teh doctor prescribed xanax — noooooooooooo I wanted nothing to do with pills and rejected them. I went to see a naturopathic doctor and set myself off on a very green path that included lots of kale and magnesium to help my cortisol levels. I slept. I wrote. I walked. I did yoga. I cried. I left Chicago for good. I moved into my mom’s empty condo. I woke up.

I feel like a completely different person than I was a two years ago and I am extremely grateful for this completely unexpected gift my mom gave me. It was her love, her broken heart, her choice to unburden her heart, that has forever lightened my heart and turned my life around in the most profound way. I no longer believe there is something wrong with me. I have stopped searching for answers and I literally stopped harassing myself.

I am nice to me. I am nice to others. I like being nice. I can’t believe how good it feels to be nice.

I have met many women whose mothers have also passed away, who never had an opportunity to make peace with their mom before she left this earth. My heart goes out to these women for the pain I see in their eyes, but then again, I see the pain in many women’s eyes when it comes to their mother’s, alive or not. One universal truth, I have come to discover, is that our always-complicated and deeply profound relationship with our mothers affects every single area of our lives. I am not denying that men aren’t affected by their mothers as well, but I have not walked in their shoes, only my own, and I tend to gravitate towards women who wear their mother on their heart sleeves.

I am very proud to be Jule Francis McGovern Foster and Loren Pries Foster’s daughter, may they both rest in peace. I am no longer in the Broken Hearts Club because of the strength and love I learned from these two hearty souls — and it was no walk in the park with either of them. I now meet the challenges of my life with a full heart and eager curiosity. I take care of my heart, I value it and wow it’s a bit amazing what my happy heart says to me! The noise has been reduced, and I finally hear the wisdom within, wow wow wow wow wow.

I’ve been able to make amends for the mistakes I made in my marriage and I wasn’t sure if I would every have this opportunity. Reed is a huge part of my life once again and what an amazing gift this has been to make peace with him, Texas and Mexico. I no longer have hate in my heart, wow wow wow what a trip.

There is still so much to learn and experience and I am super-excited for this thing called my life.

I am tremendously grateful for all the heartache I have survived in my life, and I can’t believe it’s been two years since my mom flew away. I miss her so xx

November 2, 2014May 9, 2015

I am a Psychic.

And guess what, so are you! In fact, each one of us has been born with natural psychic abilities — it is our six sense and we all have one, even if it has been ignored. Much like the ability to sing or paint or play the piano, this skill can be developed with education and a dedication to nurture it, in a world that is not so keen on its development. And much like almost any other profession, there are folks looking to scam people and take advantage of the weakness of others. I have happily met some extraordinary exceptions and look to learn more from the studied professionals.

I’ve had quite an education in the psychic healing arts in the past year and a half. I never once considered myself psychic, although I was always interested in it because I was very curious about those that were psychic; what exactly did this mean? I saw stories and had no idea what that meant, so I went tripping around. As a kid, I was always being told to be quiet, don’t say that, keep your mouth shut….. and because I did not really know how to do that, I discovered ways and means to suppress these thoughts and feelings. So as I grew up, I treated it as a book that I would flip through every couple of years and then toss it aside. That is….. until my mom passed away.

I have met countless people whose lives have completely changed after the passing of their mother; I suppose the stories had always been around me, but I never heard these stories. I thought I had been prepared for my mom’s death, but even to this day, not quite two years later, her death still inspires me, still makes me cry, still makes me feel things I have never felt, but mostly, my mom has inspired me. I recently created a mission statement, and as CORNY as it is, it is oh-so-very-true for me: (yes, it sounds like a Beach Boys song lol)

“I want the rest of my life to be the best of my life and I want to share the good vibrations!”

I discovered I do have psychic abilities. That’s such a freaky word though, isn’t it? I rarely use the word because it’s FREAKY and people literally or metaphorically take a step back and put their hand up as if to say, “You will not see me.” I don’t blame them, I have done the same. Storefront psychics have given the profession a very bad name and in my studies, I learned that approximately 90% of psychics are scam artists. That’s a HUGE number of phoney-baloneys and no wonder this young woman got exactly what she set out to find; online psychic scammers. They are incredibly easy to find, so she allowed herself to be mostly scammed and willingly paid for it. Had she spent some time educating herself, she could have found a professional who could read the energy around her and with a combined effort on both their parts, she would have been left with suggestions on how to improve and/or change her current situation. It’s not hocus-pocus unless you want it to be abra-cadabra. We all have free will and no psychic has the final word on your life, nor should anyone allow a psychic to hold their future ransom for a dollar amount. This woman eventually meet someone who had energy-reading-abilities and guess what, IT FREAKED HER OUT.

I am a beginner and have immersed myself in learning all that I can about these talents of mine that I discovered late in the game; there is no clear path to educate one’s self in this manner, which is a challenge I fully embrace. I no longer even feel as though I have a choice, nor do I wonder if I have this ability; I do. Now my focus is to simply understand this thing that is in me and to that end, I am completely dedicated to educating myself and developing these skills because it is literally the things that makes me jump out of bed each morning. My hope is that everyone finds the thing that makes them to jump out of bed each morning because honestly, it’s the sweet spot for sure.

Everyone has a Sixth Sense, just as everyone can sing, but it’s a skill that must be developed and nurtured. Nothing about our American culture wants you to have these six sensory skills, let alone develop them, which is why turning off the TV and staying out of malls and bars would be a good place to start if you’re interested in develop these skills. Fortunately (!!!) I lost everything while my mom was dying and in my process of re-building, I find myself out in nature A LOT, which is the perfect place for me to develop and practice these intuitive skills. I have learned to meditate too — perhaps one of THE most challenging things to do in my life, because the world has always screamed at me and I always screamed back, that is until I discovered the gift of silence.

It is in the silence where I have learned my greatest lessons.

In the silence, I know stories. It feels as though I get tapped on my nose and then I see people and situations. Usually these situations are high-stress, traumatic situations, not always, but never a bunch of detailed information. In my study of developing these skills, I give much consideration to the ethics of this business, and have learned that it is best to never impose my thoughts or “advice” (eee-gads) on anyone, so often times, I do what I must to release this energy from me. This is where NIA dance comes in tremendously handy, and why I share my good energy tips on Instagram!

Being psychic, or rather, being in touch with one’s intuitive side (a much nicer way of saying it), is the ability to see or hear or read “energy in motion.” When I first heard this description, it made it much less spooky and less mysterious.

“The ability to read energy in motion.”

It’s a fascinating subject and there is so much to learn, so much to try, so much to see, so much to read, so much to feel! I have met some amazing people in this journey, as well; there have been some absolute nut jobs oh-yes-for-sure, some egos five times the size of Texas, but mostly I have met some of the most caring and dedicated people I have ever met in my life, and many dress suuuuuuuper-cool and have never seen an office cubicle. I LOVE IT!!

A good place to start if you’re interested in developing your own “intuitive skills” is Sonia Choquette’s “Diary of a Psychic“, and almost all of her other books. I have read most and have attended her workshops too, which are craaaaaaaaaazy-amazing!

In my late-twenties, I started on the path to discover these skills and learn more about them, but I eventually walked away, literally and metaphorically, because I wasn’t “getting it.” It was a long and interesting lesson, yet I was very, very frustrated because I learned all these things in my head, but nothing was happening outside of me. When my mom was dying and said the words, “I was wrong about you and I wish I had been nicer to you“, it truly melted a steel cage around my heart and I was able to see, feel, hear, taste, touch for the first time in my life. My mom gave me an amazing gift before she passed away, the gift of LOVE, and so it is because of her I am dedicated to being the best PSYCHIC I can possibly be! And truly the BEST part about it is that I don’t have to be a PSYCHIC because there are so many other tremendous things possible in life now!

Now please, will you wash behind your ears before I have to embarrass you in public?

xoxo

August 6, 2014August 6, 2014

To Be Me Agan

The more I read and attempt to understand near death experiences, the more I accept how profoundly I have been changed by my mom’s passing; and it was not a near death experience for me, but a near-to-three-deaths-experience. Those weeks spent with my mom have affected me in such a way that at times I have no words for it, so I sometimes chose to withdraw and fall into my study and fascination of “everything-as-energy”. I am inspired by everything I am learning; my perspective on life has evolved and I am super hungry to learn more. Even though it may appear as though I’m sitting there doing nothing, there is an enormous wave of activity going on in my head, and it is true I have never adored silence as much as I do now.

Ahhhhh sweet, golden silent silence I need you so I can read the world around me…

“The dots have been connected and there is no going back.” –Anita Moorjani in “Dying To Be Me.”

I just finished this book and I *love* her message and look forward to exploring more of it; specifically about how life comes down to self love. Not selfish love but self love — huge difference. But alas, this is much easier said than done for me; I have been reading self-help books my entire life and have strived to feel better about myself, i.e. change and improve myself so that I would feel good enough to be accepted by those around me and by the world in general eeeee-gads, much like the author. I’ve read wonderful books over the years, attended fabulous workshops, joined many, many groups, traveled near and far to look for that golden ticket, but at the end of the day, the week, the month, the year, nothing changed. I was still me. Still restless. Still discontent. I walked away from trying to improve myself, whatever, it didn’t work for me.

This has been a lifetime of mistakes and achievements and setbacks and adventure and only now, after my mom’s apology before her death, have I felt that steel cage melt away from around my heart and my life is forever elevated. Only now am I beginning to ease up on the harsh words and condemnation I’ve always had for myself. You could say perhaps I don’t care anymore, but I’ve never cared more in my life. My focus has changed tremendously over the past year, so I guess it only made sense that the Universe stripped me of everything in order to accommodate this radical change in perception. Well done Universe, well done.

Have you ever experienced a HUGE RELIEF? For me it’s when I eased off and stopped punishing myself for everything that would be impossible for me to be anyways. It’s when I gave myself permission to stop following all the self-imposed rules that have dictated my guilt-ridden life. It is a huuuuuuuuuuuge weight off my back and at times I have no idea who I am anymore. I’m okay with this. It’s not perfect by any means and I still have days when I get down on myself, but it’s a million miles away from what it used to be. If only my mom could have been free of this brutal punishment…. but that was not her life.

I also love the author’s message about food, as I have been afraid of eating unhealthy food for DECADES. Oh I’ve eaten it in the past, only to then punish myself in a variety of ways. Her fresh outlook on eating impressed me so much that this week I ate fried chicken from a chicken shack in Austin and I didn’t pass out! Oh it was gross for sure, but I enjoyed it with GUSTO. I had a coke too, YUM!

I am almost 50 years old. It takes what it takes…. and now I have my entire world ahead of me.

When I awake each morning and climb my way out of the morning’s dream, I get a mellow rush of excitement for the day ahead, no matter what lies ahead. I see things twirling around in my head, like magic 8’s dancing above me. I have a faery chandelier over my bed and I watch it twinkle for a few minutes as I leave my dream state and return to the State of Texas. I am pleased. I think of someone I love. I stretch and pet my dog and yawn and check my phone. I love waking up…

…then I head outside to do some energetic sun salutations in the driveway. Henry has begun to join me out there and I work with his energy and get it moving up & out. He appears to be full of vigor once again! He has been struggling ever since he returned from Mexico a few months ago and has had a multitude of vet appointments. He is looking happy again…

I sometimes forget I have been attuned in reiki. I sometimes forget I studied Gabrielle Roth’s dance for years and taught it in Mexico. I sometimes forget that I have psychic talents that love to be nurtured. I sometimes forget I was a graphic designer or that I love to write and that I can draw and paint fairly well. I sometimes forget that even though I spent years damaging my body with booze, smokes and poppin’ pills, my body is an amazing piece of wonder and it can heal itself. I sometimes forget I have power to change my life and live the life I’ve often dreamed of. I have started to remember that life can be wonderful and full of magic, even at this age when so many of us are overly-familiar with the dullness that can crush our waking days.

I read the news, I am not in some airy-faery cloud, but the best thing I can do for the world is to be the best Meagan I can be.

I have returned to dance and will be getting certified to teach NIA technique dance later this month. I am learning to read tarot cards because they help me make sense of practically every aspect of life and I love it! I have been reading oracle cards for a while now and they are becoming richer to me. I read Shakespeare and recently found this little book of gems. I love love letters. I have a little job that is good for now while I continue to pursue the many things I love in life and by doing this, I have a spring in my step when I bounce out of bed in the morning, even though I have so far to go. I’ve also had it about up to HERE with the State of TEXAS yet I am grateful beyond belief for all of the gifts and experiences it has provided me.

Oh To Be MeAgan… I loved reading this book and I really do love the journey, not just the destination… :)))

May 9, 2014May 10, 2014

Motherless Day 2014

Every evening at sunset, I have the extreme fortune to jump into a man-made swimming hole in the middle of a Texas Hill Country ranch and it is completely invigorating and effervescent. The water is cold, the tadpoles are lively, and the scenery is a-buzz, even sometimes with horses or cows.

I am doing this plunge every day for the month of May to help me get settled in my new house and community. I am really enjoying the land and opportunities to rub elbows with nature. Lawdy the bugs are big and will only get bigger as the summer heats up, so I hold a respectful appreciation of all the creatures whose path I cross. My recent interlude with a scorpion in the kitchen sink reminded me of where I am and who rules the roost in Texas. Not me.

This weekend is Mother’s Day. Wow that year flew by quickly, as they all tend to do as I get older. Even with all the year’s logistical changes, the lessons of my mom’s death are still at the forefront of my thoughts and play a part in almost every action I take, every decision I make.

One year ago, I was FREEZING as I stood on a super-windy pier, tossing my mom’s ashes into the icy waters of Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. The ashes flew all up and around me but eventually found their way back into the water and I watched with tears in my eyes as the smokey ashes swirled away into the water. It was the biting wind that caused my tears on this occasion and honestly, I gave no thought to Juls’ ashes once they were where she had requested; in Wisconsin.

There were conversations that she would have preferred Green Bay, because she was a diehard Packer Fan. I shot that down because I wanted to keep her close to me. I was adamant that I had to keep an eye on her and make sure she was okay; although I had declined to pick up her ashes from the funeral home until this Mother’s Day. I was certain I did not want her in the house with me — but that I needed to keep an eye on her. Strange, perhaps.

My mom and I always loved Lake Geneva, but never for any shared memories, we each had our own reasons. Now that Juls was in the lake, I started visiting on a regular basis to chat with her. I honestly felt better when I would first see the lake because it felt like she was happy, finally. My mom was not a happy woman, especially later in life, but now I believe she was free. It made me smile to think she was swimming around Wisconsin, in the beautiful clear lake, eating pretzels and drinking beer with all the other Packer fans.

When I was 13, I saw the movie JAWS and I wished I hadn’t, who’s with me on that? Once an avid swimmer, I suddenly was terrified of ALL water and honestly avoided every opportunity to swim in anything other than a chlorinated pool for the rest of my days. I don’t like fish and I don’t like seaweed. I don’t swim in Lake Geneva or any other lake, river or ocean for that matter.

Funny thing happened as I started to visit Juls’ in Lake Geneva, soon I found myself climbing into the water. And swimming. With fish. Naked (when I could get away with it!). And often. I would hike around the walking path on the days I could get up to Lake Geneva and jump in where I could. Preferably at sunset.

I took a paddle-board lesson… LOVED IT, then joined a paddle-board club (“tribe”), where we went on weekend outings. I started kayaking and enjoyed this too because I could bring Henry with me. I LOVED being in the water and still do today — even in Texas, where the bugs and fish are BIG and angry!

Me, the one who was horribly uncomfortable in the water now finds comfort in the water.

I recently read “Motherless Daughters” for the first time and although it tends to mostly speak to women who lost their mothers when they were younger, nonetheless I clearly understand it to say that when a woman loses her mother, no matter what age, her life is profoundly and forever changed.

For me, this has meant re-examining EVERYTHING. I did not set out to do this, but in the year and months since mom died, I have become extremely aware of my own mortality and interested in understanding where I came from and how I became the person I am today. There is also an unstoppable force to be a better person.

I like being nice, who knew?

Not only did my mom die in front of me as we held on tight to each other for the first time in our lives, but she apologized. I may have said this before and I will say it for the rest of my life; my mom’s deathbed apology has altered me forever and because of it, I have worked endlessly to change old, tired beliefs that have never served me — nor my treatment of you.

Juls said she was wrong about me. That she wished she had been nicer to me. Was sorry that she didn’t get to know me better.

When she was saying these things, I said, “CUT IT OUT MOM! It’s not like you are dying or something!” I didn’t know what-what. But that’s okay.

My mom’s apology melted a steel cage from around my heart and this has been an indescribable feeling, and one of the most freeing feelings in my life. See “How The Grinch Stole Christmas” for a better description.

I spent my adult life reading self help books, attending workshops, seeing shamans, psychologists, you name it… always digging to discover what was wrong with me and on and on and on…. and never discovering the answers; that anxiousness and restlessness stayed, churning away at me. I kept hearing it was Daddy Issues and sure there were some of those, but nothing will compare to the freedom pill my mom gave me when she acknowledged some of the choices she made in her life — and for this, she was regretful and was sorry.

My life: changed forever.

The year has not been without heartache nor challenges; I am still recovering from the sting of losing a number of jobs, all my stuff and I lost all my stuff, did I mention this? But at this point, this has become my Badge of Honor. I am finding my way. I found my ex-husband in Mexico and have made amends for the mistakes I made when I was his wife. We are living together in Texas now, peacefully for the most part, and with a much better understanding and appreciation of each other. He has a very big life and it has been a wonderful opportunity to get to know Reed and his world once again; this time with eyes that love and not hate.

Today I jump in the water with the bugs, frogs and bats at every sunset. I walk the fields with my camera and take pictures of cows, flowers, naughty horses and sunsets. I cook healthy meals that sometime include bacon and BBQ and am enjoying learning about native plants and birds. Oh the birds! I never noticed the birds last time I lived in Texas — and now they sing to me everywhere.

This Mother’s Day I am grateful to have a mom who gave me the greatest gift of all; the gift of a new life, a new beginning, a chance to make things right. I am a happy kid again.

Thank you Mom. Go Packers! xoxoxo