Seven key words after mothers death

 Seven key words after mothers death

The old lady said goodbye to me in her way. Not long before she died, she lay in bed and said to me, come on, let mom hold you. Then he patted me on the back, what a nice little girl. This is what she said to me when she was awake. I get hit every time I think about it. In the old ladys mind, I have always been so cherished.

Although I have been working alone for many years, I have forgotten what my mothers arms are like and how I feel when I am hugged. Although I have learned to report good news but not worry, and have no real communication, I only take care of her as an old lady. What a nice little girl makes me find my mother in my heart.

I also used my way to say goodbye to her, I deeply understand her. I understand her as a mother: her life is the life of an ordinary mother. I understand her reluctance to give up the children at the final stage. I also understand her as a woman: in this gender society, it is not easy to be a woman. Im also understanding the other as one person: were following her wishes and theres no overtreatment. She left peacefully in her bed at home.

When I got home from my mothers funeral, I slept for two days. I didnt feel too much sadness, just very, very tired. Then life went on as usual. Its just that in these two months, Im often in a trance. I know, its my way of mourning. In a trance, I lost the ability to make delicious food, either forgetting to put salt, or repeated salt. Or the pot burns until it smokes and then realizes its been burning for a long time. Walking on the road, I saw an old lady who looked like her, and suddenly fell into a trance. It took me a long time to recover.

When I was in a trance, I stopped what I was doing in my hand and froze for a while. Daze when the brain is empty, most of what did not think, also not much sad, I know I am in a trance rest. In the last week or two, the time and frequency of trance are decreasing. I seem to be building strength. Ill be fine.

03 comfort

In these days, the greatest comfort to me is my mother herself. Several years ago, she prepared what she needed to use after her death: a container made of hard paste cloth and embroidered with flowers, which was used to hold food for funerals; an old-fashioned pair of shoes embroidered with flowers (which was deliberately made too big for fear of swollen feet after death); a set of old-fashioned clothes, which was covered with open-ended underwear, which could be directly covered after cleaning; and other funeral supplies. They were all wrapped up and kept there for years. In the past few years, in this needle thread, mother is preparing for death. Every time I think of it, I draw comfort from this courage and indifference.

I was also comforted by my friends company. My friend didnt say anything, but walked with me who liked walking. After more than 30000 steps a day, I was comforted. I also arranged a journey for myself, and I was comforted in nature. Also participated in the inward writing camp. When I shared these experiences, I was comforted by the understanding of campers. Writing is powerful, and at the moment I write these words, my heart is comforted.

04 integration attempt

Whether I want to or not, my mother put a more complete face of life in front of me. Death, in this way, let me face it, face it as part of life.

After the funeral, I cut some roses from the yard and put them in front of her dead bed. Looking at this bunch of flowers, my heart was bright. Life and death can coexist in one space, even in one.

As a contrast, in the process of nurturing, there is also a five thinking is stupid. We constantly regard children as an object of judgment, analysis and education, but we have lost a kind of under world which cannot be explained by words. Mother, in this way, brought a bottom world to me. In this span, looking at the current difficulties, there is a certain attitude of detachment and blessing. Life and death are initially integrated at this level.

05 the sentimentality of death

According to our local customs, every seven days is a memorial day. Seven days after my mother died, I wrote a eulogy for her. The feeling I wanted to express was irresistible. After the event, I remember, what am I eager to express? Now, what I express is a gentle and deep love. The feeling that I want to hug her and love her is surging like a wave in my heart. This feeling was aroused by her death. Death brings pure emotion, while life is interfered and blocked by various complex life situation factors.

In the long eulogy, there is a sentence: in the afterlife exchange, I am your mother. Comb your hair and touch your skin. I will keep you company all day long. At that moment, I just want to love.

06 light

Yu Dehui said that there is light in the crack between life and death. I can feel the light quietly now. Light itself is transparent and invisible, but it illuminates many things in my life: my children, nature and everyday life.

I took home a banana fan that my mother had used for more than ten years as a souvenir. I told my child that when he was very young, grandma used this fan to fan him and drive away mosquitoes. The childrens eyes lit up when they looked at the old fan. The light came to his eyes, and he knew what looking at a mountain is not a mountain. I didnt frame and box the Pu fan, just like my mother did when she was alive. Sometimes I used to fan the fan and occasionally looked at me in a daze. Isnt the light of looking at the mountain still the mountain just like the light of my normal life.

In the past two months, when there are disputes and contradictions in my life, I often think, if it is a mother, what will she do? In fact, when I think so, is it the mother who answers what to do? In real life, when a mother encounters something beyond her own experience, she is likely to be helpless and clumsy. But where does the calm, wise, calm and courageous voice come from? I think this is the spiritual mother that I formed with my mother as the prototype when I grew up. In the cracks of life and death, she appeared as a mother.

I also feel the light in nature. I miss my mother when I walk down the path of heaven in Tibetan areas. When I see the full moon on Mingsha mountain, I miss my mother, even in the wind and sunshine. As a result, the wind is softer, the moonlight is brighter, and the world is clearer. In the evening, eating the food that my mother used to like, the taste is stronger because of her. Although the mother died, but the mothers love, green mountains, sunshine and air. The world seems to be different, I experience it more deeply, because of her insidious guidance, unconsciously courage breeding.

07 courage

And miss you.


Author: Chun Qiong, a teacher of educational psychology in nannormal University. Personal interest is devoted to the study of growth from a narrative perspective. The 15th session of the inward writing camp.