It was Mother's Day recently here is the United States and instead of perseverating on the painful relationship I have with my own mother, I chose to focus instead on my wife and her journey as a mother. This year was the 10th anniversary of the burial service for my wife's mother, Linda. She passed on Christmas Day, 2013 and because of the icy winters of the Northeast, we were unable to return her to the earth for nearly 5 months. This is a painful reality for those of us who live in climates that render the ground beneath our feet frozen solid, immobilized against all manmade equipment. So, we preserve the body, have the memorial or funeral service, and after the thaw we relive the pain of the loss as we part with our loved one again. Although there is a sense of completion at this second service, it is often lost to the reopened wounds that have only just begun to heal and scar over.
In our case, the wounds ran deeper, as the burial took place the day before Mother's Day, 2004. My young wife, not yet 30 years old, had lost her mother less than 5 months before. And the next day, Mother's Day, would be her 1st as a mother herself with our then 10 month old son. What an aching duality she must have felt at that moment. To be watching the body of her mother leave her for the last time, while holding the gift of the new and unbridled joy of healthy, happy child who was loving her as she had loved her own mother. I have not experienced this in my life, nor will I ever, yet I can feel her sadness a decade later as I recall that day.
But let me return to the burial itself. Let me tell what can happen when one is open to the G-d that has more for us than just grief. Often there is something special, extraordinary, and inexplicable that occurs at these "plantings," these burials of our already long gone friends and relatives. There is something out of the ordinary that brings us a renewed sense of the continuation of our lives and the presence of the Holy within and around us. In our case, it was a hawk.
I have a physical remembrance of standing near the graveside, hearing words, looking at my wife, and wondering what solace might be found there. As I felt the air moving around us, heard the birds in the trees, smelled the fresh flowers, and saw the blue sky through the treetops, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and saw the smile of a friend as she pointed up to the sky. There, circling in majestic arcs was a hawk, surveying us and all that was around. As she spoke the word "look," my wife and I both looked up and saw the magnificent sight. It was as if, in that moment, G-d had given us a a reprieve from the darkness of looking down into a grave. Rather, we were compelled to look up and see the soaring hope of the life that was still ahead of us. We gave meaning to presence.
When we ascribe meaning to parts of our life experiences, we create truths for our own comfort and resiliency. Within the Jewish and Christian traditions, the physical reminders of our covenant(s) with G-d contain the ancient rituals of breaking bread and drinking wine while speaking prayers of blessing. Every time we share in a meal where we give outward thanks, we create a truth about experiencing the Holy with our most basic physical needs of food and drink. I believe that all of creation can be a witness to G-d and the blessings that can be had when one is open to them. From bread and water to the most sacred of religious practices, we are in the presence of Holiness when we use the material gifts that G-d has supplied us with. Like manna in the wilderness or fish for the multitudes G-d gives us tangibles to access a G-d that is too great to be comprehended by us. In our family this Mother's Day there were 3 things of material existence that were given spiritual significance, and allowed us to access that Holiness, that enormous G-d.
Red geraniums, an orange marmalade cake, and a yellow hand towel.
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| Mom's Red Geranium |
The orange marmalade cake has its roots, not in my mother-in-law, but in my wife's love of a series of books by the author Jan Karon, The Mitford series. In it, there is a character who bakes this special cake for friends and family, often annoying her husband during the holidays due to the cost of the ingredients. It is more than just a delicious treat, it is actually an expression of love and caring as the baking process requires many steps, attention to detail, special ingredients, and a lot of time and patience. The cake was a gift of gratitude for the love that continues to change the lives of our sons as well as our own.
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| Orange Marmalade Cake |
The yellow hand towel has a unique place in this trinity of everyday sacraments, reaching back over 20 years. In the late summer of 1993 my wife was preparing to attend college, 2 hours away from home, and would be living in a dorm for the first time in her life. As she collected the necessary items for her new journey, her mother also purchased things for her to bring. Numerous toiletries, clothes, and bedding were secured for her future life in college, but there was a need that Linda provided with her unique pragmatic approach to life. She bought a set of mustard yellow hand towels, high quality no less, that if one were being generous in describing them would say they were ugly at best. The reason for this was intentional, because Linda believed that no one would steal these towels due to there color. And sure enough she was right, because twenty plus years later, we still have those hideous towels. They've never been stolen, no matter how much we would have wished them to be.
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| The "Still not Stolen" Yellow Hand Towel |
And here I choose to ascribe one more bit of meaning to these three items, that their colors represent the relationships between mother and daughter. The red geraniums and the yellow towels are primary colors that when combined create a secondary color, orange, in the form of the cake. You see, the deeply imprinted devotion of a mother's love for her daughter was bonded with a promise of love that would transcend mortality. And this has given new life to the daughter who is a mother herself. The red of the future along with the yellow of the past blend into the orange of the present. And although this interpretation could easily be called false, I believe that the sacred meaning is greater than the "truth."
In the end, we find our ability to have meaningful experiences with the Holy, with G-d, with our sacred truths where we are, not where we are supposed to be. Through the process of living into these truths we can begin to see ourselves within the heart of G-d and the universe itself. Whether it be through flowers, cakes, and towels, or bread, wine, and blessings, we are capable of entering into relationship with G-d. And when we do that, we are able to enter into relationships with others. And it is only then that we can witness the true, unique, and unconditional love of G-d.
Thank you for continuing to seek the true love of G-d with me on this journey.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
Ari
