Life moves quickly. Years become decades within minutes, so it seems. I’ve lived six of them now. Our years are a compilation of numerous beginnings and endings with lots of middles. Those middles are where life is lived.
Last week was bittersweet. Last week we laid Mom to rest after almost seven years.
When Mom’s brain was healthy, her wishes were for us kids to take her ashes to the Chiricahua National Monument in SE Arizona. She wanted to leave enough money to take our families with us. Well, that didn’t happen. Somewhere along her timeline, Mom lost her life insurance and other monies. Sadly, none of us three kids have had the money or time to take her there. I had Sugarloaf Mountain chosen to spread her ashes. The sunrises and sunsets would be amazing from there. Mom sure loved the beauty of southwest.
When Mom’s mind became ravaged with dementia she wanted to just go home. Home. I know the feeling of just wanting to go home. Back to your roots. Back to the old days. Back to Mom and Dad. Well, home to her was Minnesota. Way up there in the boonies about an hour east of Fargo, North Dakota.
But that wasn’t going to happen either. We knew Mom’s life there wasn’t easy. It was too cold and snowy for her too. So when my brother recently moved to a beautiful place in North Carolina, that’s where we decided she needed to be. After all, she had been in NC since 1982. She loved it there and North Carolina was home to her. It’s warm and smells of pine. That’s where two of her three children have lived near her all those years as well. And I have to admit that NC is one of the most beautiful states in our country. It was the right choice.
So I made the trek there. A journey that was difficult for many reasons. But I did it. I needed to go. I needed to see my brother and sister as well.
On May 25th, we planted our dear mother beneath a young twilight magic crape myrtle. Beneath its burgundy leaves and hopeful pink blossoms, we finally laid her to rest.
I have never done anything like that before. But it was finally closure. And that’s exactly what it felt like. I didn’t realize that all these years I carried around this feeling of incompleteness.
The next day I was to leave for home and another task was at hand. That was to load my car with my dad’s belongings. He passed away a year ago March 29th. He had lived in Florida and we divided his belongings about a month after his passing. My siblings brought his things to NC and it was time to bring a part of him home with me.
I kept my composure throughout my stay. I felt kind of numb actually. It wasn’t until I got on the road after our goodbyes, and headed home that I finally felt anything. I came across a huge road sign on the highway that said “Buckhorn Road”. That’s when my heart hurt for the first time that week and tears filled my eyes. My mom once lived on Buckhorn Rd. I would never visit her there again. I had my dad’s treasures with me. The dividing and laying to rest were finished. It was all finished. Oh, how my heart hurt. The end of an era.
When we woke up the morning I was to leave, the day after burying our mother, my brother told us to come quickly to the front window to see the sight. Twin newborn fawns were born in the area around the newly planted crape myrtle. With shaky legs they explored the front yard. Their momma was near and ever so watchful. All I could think about was how happy our mom would be to see this beautiful sight surrounding her place. She would think it was absolutely perfect. I thanked God for this moment.
Beneath the twilight magic rests one of the most beautiful women to ever grace this earth. My momma. How I wish to hold her one more time. ♥️
Photo Credits: Sugarloaf Mountain, rshantz.com; twilight magic crape myrtle, homedepot.com; momma deer with one of her twins; Mom’s resting place