Unedited 4/2016
I stood with warm feet and toes caressing, exploring the
warm sand. Mesmerized by the tide far, far into the distance I wondered at the
distance I would travel into the Indian Ocean, thousands of miles from my home,
to feel the sea caress my shoulders and chest to envelope me. As is and
always shall be, my heart and mind immediately followed the invisible, magical chord
to Taylor, my daughter back home in the United States and I used my phone to photograph and video my
first experience of this African paradise in Tanzania. She sought the peace
of the beach, warmth of the sun, writing in the sand, feeling the hot sun and
cool water, seeking shells, crabs, dolphins, life of the sea, too.
I knew she’d love Africa, too like I did. I dreamed of
keeping my line of communication open with her while I was there to express my love
for her and this place on earth in which she could find joy, escape, and perspective
to change her life, learn of this beautiful culture and its magic. I wanted her
to be happy. I also wanted her to have the independence in being home with more
responsibility and freedom to think about the past few weeks that lead to her
decision to leave this reality. She suffered with Borderline Personality
Disorder, the diagnosis that seemed like a death sentence. After 22 years of
struggle I held on to hope, to her finally accepting the help and self-love she deserved. Oh, I ached for her to have had that joy.
But, please allow me to step back for a moment. I want you
to know the whole story, of joy and pain and of the soul contract between my
daughter and me. Read with an open mind and find the magic, the surrender and
her and my strength in honoring of our soul contract. The truth that something big was to happen revealed itself a
few months before my departure to Africa but I was unaware. Having traveled to
Africa in 2014 with fever in my heart and determination in my soul to be in the
presence of Africans and the wildlife there, to do my part, to learn, to fall
in love allowed for the trip of a lifetime.
But, this time something seemed wrong. I thought it was anxiety
about leaving for so long (it was planned for 5 weeks), leaving my family to
care for what I should have been, deserting them in some way. I wasn’t sure where the fear or anxiety
originated but it dissipated completely just days before I left for Tanzania on
January 7th, 2016 and allowed me as I know it now to accept what my soul already knew. I would be accepting and
honoring the contract I made with my daughter.
Of course, I had no idea that this trip would be fateful and
fraught with that something being amiss.
I felt lonely this time. Something was wrong and I couldn’t place it, define
it. So many small mishaps and troubles followed me from the beginning. I had writer’s block for a project I began
(and haven’t finished). A great deal of money was stolen from me more than once
and in more than one way. I didn’t experience the joy and sadness, relief and
awe at the elephant orphanage I returned to after almost 2 years of dreaming to
see the elephants grow and eventually become free. In fact, as my eyes and soul
were fixated on a male calf that soon died after I left. I knew that truth when
I saw him and thought of almost nothing else. My laptop crashed. A taxi driver got
lost while friends and I traveled to an important meeting, the only meeting I
would have with dear friends I bonded with on social media. And, then he
overcharged me. My camera began malfunctioning. I planned to canoe on the Lower
Zambezi and I just didn’t feel like it. Seeing the elephants was joyful but not
the same. I kept asking myself what was wrong.
Contact with home was spotty. I
didn’t talk to my daughter or son nearly enough. I was sad during what would
end up being the last week I was on the continent. It was cold and rainy on
safaris and once the truck became stuck. I didn’t feel exuberance. I became
distraught when I learned about the life of hippos and the eventual demise of
hippos cast out of groups. After joining 2 nighttime game drives and witnessing
the animals shocked and upset by the spotlights shined in their faces I stopped
going. Twice I decided not to go on safari at all. I spent one of my final days
on safari simply sobbing. I didn’t feel useful, lovable or valuable, Now, I
know that my daughter was suffering on the same day and I simply absorbed her
pain from across the planet. My camera finally broke in the last days. When I
received the call that my daughter transitioned, I sat on the bank of the
Luangwa River. I realized then that during the last few months the earth was
trembling.
I return to my visit on the beach during the beginning of my
trip. I reveled in the peace of a sparsely inhabited beach and walked during
low tide far, far into the shallow ocean. As I knelt and allowed the ocean to wash
over me and rock me, I turned my face to the sun to cleanse my spirit. I wanted
for Taylor to feel what I felt and yet, I knew that day would never come. It
was an eerie existence, both healing and cautious. I don’t know how I knew. My
soul knew. I was signing my contract, fulfilling my role as her earth mother and
although my soul cries now to fight this truth, I let her go that day to make
her choice. Although Taylor was proud of me as she wrote in her farewell
message to me, and who she determined was the closest person to her, I didn’t
know she would not follow me into the peace I desperately wanted for her.
The shock I felt upon learning of her passing lasted for
over a month and so did the guilt and questions, the self-blame and
desperation. I’m her mom. Those feelings may not permeate me forever but they
will still surface as the tide ebbs and flows, a natural and instinctual aspect
of my life. She refused help but I wanted to build her trust in me to seek help
together with me upon my return. I had it all worked out. Until I didn’t.
It is now 10 and something weeks and the most extraordinary
realizations manifested for me in two consecutive days. I was not meant to be
at home that fateful night that she left the physical world. I would have changed and been damaged irreparably.
I realize that now and that there’s nothing I could have done to fix her, even
after trying for 22 years, after spending the most beautiful days and years of
my life giving my children the most beautiful love, life, laughter, and play possible. I was not
supposed to bear witness to her parting from me.
After that realization and the very next day. Cranial Sacral
Therapy and Reiki have been the most
healing experiences for me. Simply relaxing in a candle-lit room filled with
aromatherapy, soothing music and a waterfall, nestled under warm blankets, mind
and heart wide open and free of distractions encourages us to connect with the Self,
and for me with her. I laid comfortably and immediately relaxed. I found myself
visualizing myself floating in the Indian Ocean. But, this time Taylor held me,
buoyant and comforted. As she held me, I felt tears touch my cheeks. The pain and
sorrow, the longing, desperate in the realization that her body is not with me,
never to hear her laugh again dissipated as quickly as it came. I saw her in
her new form, or I should say I felt her. I heard her laugh, joke, and felt her
love and healing. I saw her as she has become. She is love. The suffering
mirrors mountain of love I have for her and I finally understood that suffering
and love are symbiotic. I embraced her, accepted her love and who she has
become in the universe. I felt pride in the magnitude and latitude of her touch
that reaches so many people still here, as was her purpose both in the physical
and spiritual.
My contract, my agreement with her was to let her go, set
her free, honor that choice that cuts deeply. I, the mother who stands alone
without her in the physical accepted her decision to go while I floated,
meditated, felt the warmth and peace of the ocean while in Africa. Brokenhearted and contracting with grief, I stand strong still. No waves will break
me. She holds me. She told me before that I’m the bravest and strongest person
she knows. I haven’t felt very brave or strong. My soul honors her. That must
not dissipate.
The way she left us, the pain she experienced, the lifelong
suffering she endured haunts me. I know now, hanging my head still that I
couldn’t save her. Taylor showed me that I did everything and more. She said in
her last message, “You’re the best mom you could have been.” She’s touching lives now and I will go to that
place in my heart as I do every day to feel her within me as others do.
I will learn to love her in her blissful new state of being,
joyful, pain free, able to serve a greater purpose. One day at a time I will
try. And, one day….as time travels slowly in the depths of despair….I will
speak soundly, clearly, respectfully, and with power for families, the
suffering, the animals, in honor of Taylor with tears streaming down my face or
not, beaming with pride that I am with my twin soul with whom I’ll be connected
for eternity.
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