Today, June 9th was both my mother’s birthday and the one year anniversary of her death. Yes, it is strange when one’s death falls on their birthday, I am not sure if it was the initial sting of her death or now that hurts more, but life goes on. I have to choke back the tears and deal with my loss either way.
In the weeks immediately following her death I had a strange dream that gave me inner peace. In the dream we were all seated at her funeral listening to the priest begin the service. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. It was my mother. She asked what I was doing. I begged her to be quiet because the priest was going to be livid. The service was for her after all. My mother looked at me and sarcastically said, “I am telling you that I am not there.” She pointed to the urn on the alter. It was adorned with Irish flowers and an Irish wreath with the word “Mom” scrolled across the middle. My mother prided herself on being completely Irish. I again asked her to be quiet because we would all be in trouble. She smiled and quietly said, “Well, its not everyday that you get to go to your own funeral. I am telling you that I am not there.”
I woke up realizing that my dream unfortunately mirrored the reality of my situation. Even if it was my own mind trying to cope with my grief, it worked. I am convinced that it was God reassuring me that everything was alright. This woman who devoted her life to helping those in need had become one his chosen. Now it is up to me to continue her legacy.