Sometimes Saying Goodbye Is The Best Way to Say That I Love You

"Sometimes saying goodbye is the best way to say that I love you." Cairn said he as stroked my bangs from my forehead.

We had moved to his cottage in County Kerry for it was time to prepare for the May 1, Beltaine ceremony when he would face StormRider as he had done centuries ago.  This time he had to vanquish him if Morgana and I were take a safe breath again.

I had called home to see if my mom had improved and had learned that she'd been moved to hospice.  My anguished tears rivaled a furious thunderstorm.  It seemed as though my grief was inconsolable and that I would never heal the ache that yawned like a cavern of hell within.

"I'm not ready." I choked.

"But she may be.  Do her the honor of letting her go."

"I've tried," I sobbed. "I used the ancient Indian prayer, 'I love you, I forgive you, I forgive myself, I'm sorry.' But all that I feel is this dread.  She is my last connection in this world.  I have no family without her."

"Your family is within yourself.  She will never truly leave. She is just transforming.  You've spoken of her beauty.  She will once again inhabit a youthful and radiant body."

"Yes, I've seen her during my Reiki sessions.  She is on the water in bright sunlight.  That is unusual for she is very fair and could never tolerate the sun, even for a few minutes.  And my friend, another Reiki healer, received the same image."

"Sweet one, you are never alone in the world.  You have many friends and people who love you.  I am one of them. Even so, you aren't alone.  You have a relationship with yourself and God."

I wasn't convinced as I felt the ache that had become as familiar as my own reflection, engulf me.  I always wanted to share my exploits with her, buy her gifts, make her life a happier place.  I felt bereft without her happiness that I used as a lens to reflect my success.

"There have been too many good-byes.  My father, my step-father, my sister, my ex - but that was a solid, you understand?  But not my mother. That is the essence of our connection to the world. We learn to orient ourselves through our mother's love and nurturing."

"It's time, long since past the time that you should have internalized her love and nourishment."

"Yes," I whispered.  "But she had a troubled passage here and was not able to be there in a way that a child hopes."  I finished ashamed and saddened as though I'd just betrayed her.

"My friend said that she had a message for me.  She said that she loved me and that she was sorry and that a part of her would always be with me.  I keep thinking that I can handle it, but somehow I am not."

"That's because you are resisting and not trusting.  Trust the Divine."

"Part of me wants to go ahead to show her the way."

"That's evil talk.  You can't mean that you would even consider..."

"I've been telling her that she gave me so much, love of beauty and language.  I fell in love with words and heard music through that idiom.  I love antiques and opera and so much that she shared with me.  I tell her to go.  But why can't I ask her to stay a bit longer if she is able."

Cairn held me as a child then.  He muscular arms surrounded me with warmth and his deep voice rumbled in my ear.  Once again I heard the lullaby that my mother had sung to me.  I drifted on the comfort of that familiar melody.  I felt a spinning light at the center of my third eye and I saw myself laughing with my young mother.  She was much younger than when she had given birth to me.  Her eyes a piercing blue such as you've seen on a crisp fall morning, her hair was long and gently swayed in the soft wind.  I felt her love and her comfort.  What right had I to keep her trapped in a body that had suffered numerous strokes?  I felt our hands clasp across the water and her love was sure and firm, such as I wasn't able to trust during our time together in reality.

We spoke deeply and honored each other for the gift of having experienced this life together.
I fell asleep against the rhythm of the rocking water and Cairn's steady heartbeat that washed over me like waves breaking on the sand.  I had some peace.