AUGUST 15
I am reminded that what I adore, admire, and draw from
Mother is inherent in the Earth. My mother’s spirit can be
recalled simply by placing my hands on the black humus of
mountains or the lean sands of desert. Her love, her warmth,
and her breath, even her arms around me—are the waves,
the wind, sunlight, and water.
—TERRY TEMPEST WILLIAMSWhat we have lost is not replaceable—is not supplanted by
the other manifestations of life around us, no matter how
beautiful—any more than the loss of a child is made up for
by the birth of another child. And yet...and yet...perhaps
it can give us some comfort to think about the oneness of
creation. The words on a poster our daughter had hung in
her room shortly before her death began, “The same sun
warms us,” and went on to say, “...and we share each other’s
lives, lingering in each other’s shadows.” My husband and
I framed the poster, and for many years it hung in my writ-
ing room—a source of great comfort.
Can we, in the air that surrounds us, the sunshine that bathes us
with its warmth and light, the life that surges in our own being,
imagine the abiding presence of our loved one?