I admit it– I hate goodbyes. They gut me, everytime.
When a significant relationship is severed by death, whithers due to physical or emotional distance, or comes to a decisive end, I imagine an alternate dimension. This place knows no limits of space or time, and the relationship in its finest moments and greatest joys, can live on into infinity. For example, in this place Kirsten and I are still slugging through the snow, across a frozen lake in Minnesota; Shane and I are still driving under a starry New Mexico Sky with Paul Oakenfold filling our ears.
The thing is, I don’t know where Mom fits into this dimension, because she was everywhere. Her love was as ecompassing as the air I breathe. She was the quiet joy of an everyday phone call. She was everything from a smell and a touch from the first moments of awareness, to my career counselor as an adult. She was there for all the biggest days of my life and during lots of the mundane ones, too.
She really liked the beach, though. Maybe we are still there, bathed in an eternal sunshine.