She would end up in care entirely against her will. there was no other choice. Anger and rage eventually overtook any recognizable pieces my mom had left. We no longer knew her. We were just collateral damage to an illness that would not relent. A mother would never treat her daughters like that. Our slow goodbye happened years before her death.
A phone call before dawn on a Sunday morning told me she was gone. Her death brought no relief. Just more unanswered questions.... She had fallen, they didn't find her until it was too late. She was 62. Her devastated daughters not quite thirty.
Grief hit like a tsunami. Nothing brought comfort. My knowledge of eternal life and families dug like a knife in my heart. I was so traumatized by what we had been through, the thought of spending eternity with her was terrifying. All the platitudes that people say to grieving children brought deeper resentment and anger. "She's in a better place", lucky her. We were going through hell. You are not supposed to be angry at dead people, especially not your mother. I felt like a fake and a failure. I suffered for years. Struggling to trust anyone with the darkest corners of my sacred heartache.
My heart was shattered. I never imagined healing was possible. Those blessings were for other people who didn't hate their mother.
For years I had no real desire to let go of the hurt or heartache. It some how felt safer than the alternative. More than a dozen years passed and I was so tired, the hurt so heavy. I had to set it down. A kind counselor, a good bishop and many dear friends gave me a safe place to start unpacking my bags. Slowly resentment was replaced by acceptance. After a few more years I only carried a small suitcase, the last bitter remnants of the hell we had been through. It wasn't really that heavy. Maybe someday with enough courage I could unpack it too.
I need to be sealed to my parents. I had refused the thought for years. Why would I spend eternity in chaos. But over the last year the thought kept coming. I knew it was part of my healing but how could I find the courage to face something I once thought impossible...
Our dear friends were called to serve in the Vancouver temple. We were present when they gave talks in their home ward before they left. One of them shared the following quote....
God, in His infinite capacity, seals and heals individuals and families despite tragedy, loss, and hardship.
Those words flooded my heart with peace. I had known I needed to be sealed to my parents for years, I now had the courage....
So many obstacles still stood in front of me... But a kind, inspired bishop made it possible to clear those hurdles. I entered the Vancouver Temple last Friday to be sealed to my parents. My sweetheart by my side. My bishop and his dear wife, steps behind me.
It seemed surreal to be sanding at the top of the mountain. The temple was so quiet and peaceful. Our dear friend sealed me to my mom and dad. Gratitude flooded my heart for my mom and dad and all that they have taught me and continue to teach me. I left that that little suitcase in that sealing room. There was no longer a need to unpack it, it was no longer mine.
Peace was possible it just needed 15 years to find a home in my heart.
That Sunday morning phone call was fifteen years ago today. I miss her and can't wait to get to know her again someday.
Healing continues to always be possible.
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