I will admit when I canceled Easter, I was a little worried about the aftermath. Even though my mother took it well, I was concerned about the emotional residue that might be sprinkled upon me at some point. When I called her yesterday, we had the most delightful conversation. It was reminiscent on how things were before the aging process seized her. And guess what? She said she was proud of me for honoring my truth and grateful for all I do for her.
While everyone else was dressed in their pastel attire, hunting for eggs, and gorging themselves on chocolate bunnies, I was present for a conversation with the mother I used to know. The supportive, loving individual who guided me toward my writing career. The aging process has robbed her of many things. But, the good news, is that I can appreciate the glimpses of how she used to be. Those are what I need to hold on to when things get dire. When I am frustrated or simply running out of patience.
So, my Easter revolved around being mindful. Being present. Honoring my truth. But, most of all, simply allowing myself to appreciate my mother’s vulnerability and having gratitude that I can show up for her. My expectations are realistic, but for that moment, I can be in a state of appreciation. I guess the real message of Easter, for me, showed up in a simple phone call.