Love After Death
Daisy mentioned in a response to a blog that her real father had died in February, and she never got to say goodbye. I’m guessing, Daisy, that you didn’t have a chance to really spend time with your father. I think, however, no matter what, when someone dies, we always wish we had said or done more, and that, no matter how much they meant to us, we find out how much more they do mean to us than we knew.
I have sometimes thought, what would I say, if I could have a precious five minutes now with my father and my mother. What would I say?
My father died about a half century ago, my mother about thirty years. I miss them intensely – and differently.
I believe I had a tight bond with each. With my father, it was easy and sweet. It was easy to do things for my father, and he was always delighted with whatever you did.
With my mother, we argued a lot. In contrast to my father, it was hard for my mother to let you do anything for her, and it was harder for her to be happy with it if you did. Underneath it all, was the sweetness. I can so easily see the sweetness now.
I would want to spend my five minutes with each individually. It wouldn’t work somehow to have the three of us together.
When I think about this five minutes with my father, I realize that we wouldn’t talk at all. Not a word. I would simply hold his hand. That would be it. Five minutes of holding his hand. There would be no need for words with my father. Oh, maybe he would say my name. “Glorkila, Glorkila.� He called me Glorky or Glorkila. I would be overjoyed to hear the sound of his voice.
When I think about this special five minutes with my mother, I see myself doing all the talking. It wouldn’t be apologies and all that. No, not at all. It would be like this:
I would show my mother where I live. I would point out the Gloria china she gave me. She gave it to me because the name of the china was Gloria. I would show her the large oval-framed photo of her sister that I was named after, and I would show her the large square-framed photograph of her other sister that my daughter Lauren was named after. I would show her the silver candlesticks that had been her mother’s or grandmother’s, brought over from Europe, and I would show her the cut glass I have that she treasured so.
My mother loved elegant things. She had French Provincial furniture. My taste is much more contemporary, and I don’t think there is anything of my own that she would favor.
If time allowed, I would take her for a drive and show her some beautiful houses.
I think she would like that.
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The photos below are in this order:
China Cup
Silver Candlesticks
Tante Fanny
Tante Lena
Cut Glass
Mother I call to me when I want to point out something she would appreciate. She’s busy elsewhere and doesn’t just drop by. Life goes on whether we are breathing or not! You needn’t be without your loved ones.
Godwriting is a blog by Gloria Wendroff and is about Gloria's daily life as the Godwriter of the Heavenletters project that is having a profound effect on the lives of people around the world.
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