These are things I found among my mother’s stuff after she died that I keep. The photo is probably close to how she looked when she conceived me less than 3 years later (I was born in 1954 and turn 65 today). The card and cross remind me that she is as close to me always as my heart’s mind.
It is fitting, I believe, to think of one’s mom on their birthday. This holds true whether or not our mom was able to witness our growing up after leaving her body.
I have learned that the time in utero is a sacred period of total union between a mother and her child soon to be. They share a bodily space that as human beings we will never achieve again in our limited physical lifetimes – though many try through sexual relations.
I believe I remain in contact with my deceased mother. I feel her especially strong today and know she is proud of me – not only how I handled the difficult family responsibilities after she died but also how I have retrieved my family’s origin identity since then (both of my parents were adoptees).
I love you mom. Thank you for gestating my life’s body for me.