Memories of My Mother

An Introduction to My Mom

In the days leading up to Mother’s Day , I have been thinking a lot about my mother’s influence on my life. My mother Sadie Bridgett Roberts was born on April 4, 1916 and died on March ,11, 1994 at the age of 77, due to a massive bacterial infection that ravaged her immune system. My mom was the only parent I had ever really known, my father left us when I was five years old. My mother never  remarried; she raised me  as a single parent. I was her only child.

When she died , I felt orphaned ,even though I was (and still am) married with three children at the time of her death and rebirth into a new existence.  She was my last surviving parent and one of the biggest influences in my life. Who I am today is because of who she was; she taught me the importance of integrity, honor and treating others like you’d want to be treated. She never spoke badly to me about my father; never showed a trace of bitterness. She always told me about my father’s good points. She lived with the drama he created because of his shortcomings; she chose not to  pass it on to me.

Warrior of The Light

My mother was the model of service to others. She started working in retail at The Boston Store, in Utica, New York and eventually worked for Project Head start as a case worker . In addition to working full-time, she obtained  her associates degree from our local community college. When I went to college, she stayed up late with me, helping me study for tests and typing my papers.  In retrospect, I should have had her name inscribed next to mine on my B.A. degree. My mom had a variety of physical challenges, from high blood pressure to two hip replacement surgeries and arthritis. She never once complained and chose to see only the positives in her situation . Also when she was  18, she developed tuberculosis and was not given any hope of survival. However she dealt with the challenges of her illness head on and six years later her tuberculosis went into remission. Any resiliency that I have developed in my life is due to my mother’s influence and the way that she lived . My mom chose happiness and peace, in spite of the challenges that she faced throughout her life. She was truly what Paulo Coelho would call a Warrior of  The Light.

               “behind the mask of ice that people wear, there beats a heart of fire.”

Paulo Coelho,Warrior of the Light

Surviving Death

My mom was a person of unwavering  faith. She  believed  in the afterlife and had a  deep sense of connection to the universe.She  embraced  the readings of Sylvia Browne and Shirley MacLaine, among others. I didn’t subscribe to her  beliefs when I was younger and I, in fact, dismissed all of it. Today, however, I have embraced all of my mother’s spiritual beliefs. The event that was the catalyst for a shift in my perspective was  the death of my 18-year-old daughter Jeannine in 2003. My mom however laid the groundwork ; and I believe that today both her and Jeannine are both guiding me down the path that I am currently walking. In fact, my mother first taught me that we do in fact survive death. About a month after she died, my wife Cheri and I were cleaning out  her apartment. When we came home, I went into our bedroom and I briefly saw my mother as a 24 year old woman ,sitting in a chair and smiling at me.

My Mothers Love

Though I loved my mother more than words can express, I was many times exasperated with her overprotectiveness and anxiety that was seemingly attached to it. I never really understood that until later in my life. I discovered that she worried about  my father trying  to kidnap me .  It seemed that we changed residences a lot when I was younger; there were also times when we got a lot of hangup phone calls. I also remembered a time when I was about six or seven years old and walking down the street with my mother; I turned my head and noticed a stranger snapping a picture of me. Perhaps it was my father trying to keep tabs on me. That one event led  me to conclude that my mothers fears were likely justified. Her actions were driven by her deep unconditional love of me and her fear of losing me, not because of her need to control my every move.

I Am My Mother’s Son

As I approach my 59th birthday and the beginning of my 60th year of life, I am proud of the fact that I am becoming more like my mother everyday. I let my mother’s overprotectiveness and my anger and resentment that was often attached to it, obscure the profound influence  that she had on my life, for a long time after her death .  Today I choose to celebrate my mother’s love for me and the influence of her teachings on my life.

 

 

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An Undeniable Thread of Connection: Mother, Daughter, Sting and Thomas Cole

Sadie and Sting

My mother Sadie Roberts died at age 77, on March 11, 1994 of a massive bacterial infection. For  some time after her death, I listened to an album by Sting called The Soul Cages.  He wrote the lyrics and music to grieve the death of his father. Listening to it was a cathartic almost surreal experience. Sting’s music and singing allowed  me to get in touch with the visceral experience that accompanied my mother’s death. Beyond that ,I saw no other connection with anything past or present in my life at that time. However as has been the case for me recently, I have looked at my past  experiences through a lens that has been altered because of my daughter and Sadie’s granddaughter Jeannine’s death in 2003. I felt it was time again to revisit The Soul Cages.

Jeannine and my mother shared a close bond. Jeannine was almost 11 when my mother died and she took it very hard. Little did I know , on 3/1/03 Jeannine would be reunited with my mother for all of eternity.

End of Life Synchronicities

Two priests came round our house tonight

One young,one old,to offer prayers for the dying

To serve the final rite

From the song “All This Time”, by Sting

From the album: The Soul Cages

On the day of my mother’s death, she was administered the prayer of the sick and last rites on two separate occasions by two priests, one young and one old.  A few days before Jeannine died a young priest and older deacon administered the prayers of the sick to her.  I had always ,before today, viewed my mother’s and Jeannine’s end of life journeys as separate ,because they occurred several years apart. However, the similarities of their end of  life rituals indicated there was a teaching or teaching yet to be discovered.

The Voyage of Life

And all this time

the river flowed

endlessly to the sea

From the song “All This Time”, by Sting

I shared my observations with my wife Cheri about the almost identical rituals that were conducted at the end of life with our mother and daughter. She immediately directed my attention to four portraits on our wall, depicting The Voyage of Life by Thomas Cole. The following information has been retrieved from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Voyage_of_Life

The Voyage of Life, painted by Thomas Cole in 1842, is a series of paintings that represent an allegory of the four stages of human life: childhood, youth, manhood, and old age.Allegory is a literary device in which characters or events in a literary, visual, or musical art form represent or symbolize ideas and concepts. The paintings follow a voyager who travels in a boat on a river through the mid-19th-century American wilderness. In each painting, accompanied by a guardian angel. The voyager rides the boat on the River of Life. The landscape, corresponding to the seasons of the year, plays a major role in telling the story.  In childhood, the infant glides from a dark cave into a rich, green landscape. As a youth, the boy takes control of the boat and aims for a shining castle in the sky. In manhood, the adult relies on prayer and religious faith to sustain him through rough waters and a threatening landscape. Finally, the man becomes old and the angel guides him to heaven across the waters of eternity. 

The River of Life manifests differently in each of the paintings as  the voyager progresses through the four stages of life: 

To the child,the river is smooth and narrow, symbolizing the sheltered experience of childhood. To the youth, the calm river becomes rough, choppy, and full of rocks. In manhood, the youth has grown into an adult and now faces the trials of life. The river has become a terrible rush of white water with menacing rocks, dangerous whirlpools, and surging currents. The warm sunlight of youth has been clouded over with dark and stormy skies and torrential rains. The trees have become wind-beaten, gnarled, leafless trunks. The fresh grass is gone, replaced by hard and unforgiving rock.The final painting Old Age, is an image of death. The man has grown old; he has survived the trials of life. The waters have calmed; the river flows into the waters of eternity. The withered old voyager has reached the end of earthly time. In the distance, angels are descending from heaven, while the guardian angel hovers close, gesturing toward the others. The man is once again joyous with the knowledge that faith has sustained him through life. 

Awestruck

I am in awe that both young and old were represented in almost identical fashion during both my mother’s and daughter’s end of life journey. There is an undeniable thread of connection between their transitions from life to death. There is also no denying that my mother’s and daughter’s voyages of life contained many moments of joy as well as many significant challenges, which at times made their waters rough .  I also believe that their faith in God or a higher power sustained them until their earthly time ended and their eternal time began. Jeannine’s voyage of life was short in terms of human law, but not on the depth of her experience.

I also discovered insights regarding life and death through Sting’s 20th century music and Thomas Cole’s 19th century art, two different forms of expression in two different eras.  When there is that much clarity between the past and present, the past not only becomes our teacher,but experienced almost simultaneously in the present.

 

“I know this much: that there is objective time, but also subjective time, the kind you wear on the inside of your wrist, next to where the pulse lies. And this personal time, which is the true time, is measured in your relationship to memory.”  

Julian Barnes- The Sense of an Ending

 

Perhaps the insights we develop when revisiting past events in our life is not due to recalled memories but evolved memories. Because of the teachings that I  have continually discovered during my journey following Jeannine’s death, memories of past events have different meanings for me   As more teachings continue to be revealed , my past memories will develop additional or totally changed meanings for me.Recalled memories in its pure form can at times, be painful because of the trauma that is attached to them. Evolved memories come from a greater understanding of the synchronicities in the universe and help an individual develop clarity during his/her life experience, while dealing with the challenges presented by death or other life altering transitions.