A letter to Mari

A letter to my friend's sister who died in 2008 of cancer.  I was reminded of this letter after I read Dan Tricarico's post  on "One Good, Small Thing."  It reminded me of this post.  Thanks, Dan.  http://www.thezenteacher.com/blog

November 8, 2008

Dear Mari,

I lit a candle for you yesterday at church.  It’s strange.  I hadn’t talked to Aracely in a few days and somehow I knew it was getting hard.  I guess I am a true believer that there is a spiritual communication that happens when we are open to it.  You would have loved it, my three little girlies were there wanting to help.

I also have a very special candle lit for you at home.  It is a candleholder we used after my grandmother died, my mother died, the people lost in 9-11, and John’s father.  We keep it going for a few days and it truly brings a spiritual peace to the house.

I know you are much more at peace.  I picture your journey with the talked about bright light entering another wonderful, pain-free world.  I know you knew you’d be there with my mom.  It gives me great comfort to know she will be able to comfort you, because I know even though you’ve gone to such a better place, I think it will still be heavy to think of the loss your children and family face.

On the one hand, I know the pain they will have; the severity, the profound feeling of loss, grief, loneliness.  I know the empty space in their heart will never be filled.  But, I also know that the hole becomes less painful, and actually, if they learn to let you…you will be a comfort to them.  I call on my mother often…ask her questions, pause in a tender moment and know that she is there, watching and comforting and strengthening me.

You must be very proud of your family.  They gave your care their all.  They dearly wanted you to live, but they also just wanted to care for you because you were their cherished mother, wife, sister, and daughter.  You must be proud because so much of what they showed you in your journey, you actually taught them.  I think they will realize this more and more in their path through life; how much you shaped and molded their lives.  The beauty is that there is so much living in each an every one of them yet to come and so many of their choices and decisions will reflect back to you.  You are so deep within them that your physical presence was just one aspect of your impact.

One of the things, the beautiful things, that the death of a loved one shows us is how to cherish life.  It’s like you have this newfound wisdom that you depart to those of us who are not yet as wise.  You taught me to savor each moment with my children.  Tonight I took a bath with all three of them.  I washed each one’s hair, gave them foot rubs, let them pour water over my head.  I had piles to clear, junk drawers to clean and bills to pay…but you once again taught me that those things are not the important things in life.  Mari, as I was washing their beautiful hair and they were giggling and splashing, I thanked you.  I feel so honored to have shared life with you.  I can’t believe how lucky your family is to have had you in their lives.

I love you,

Susie