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The passing of my Mother.

It has been a long time since I have visited here @ Pulse. My life has taken many turns since my recovery from a long term heroin addiction. I had managed to find a job, and in spite of the pay, I was able to be just as grateful at $8 as I probably would be at @ $20. I managed to connect with my inner spirit which guilds my path and also my empathy for the human condition has risen to a new level. It was not so long ago that I have visited my mom who, at that time lived in a nursing home. She had been placed there after a fall which she broke her hip. Her being a diabetic did not allow family members to offer the care she needed. My last visit to her was one of the best ones yet. It was not so long ago that resentments and anger had kept us apart for twenty-seven years. I recall during my last visit feeling so very grateful to finally have a relationship with her. And funny but for some odd reason I recall thinking that that visit would be my last. I also remember shaking my head as if to shake that out of my thoughts. On May 13, 2008, I was on brake from my class at Precision Truck School. I jumped on the computer at the office, (yes I am still needing one.) to check my e-mail. I noticed an e-mail from the oldest of my brothers and once I saw the name "Shirley" I knew instinctively that something dreadful had happened. As I read I had learned that my mom had passed the Friday before. I would like to share with Pulse the word that will be spread along with her ashes over the waters where Bodega Bay and the Russian River meet; in the little town of Jenner...
To My Mother:
In times of silence, your image appears in my thoughts.
I hear your laughter in the wind.
The stars remind me of the light you carried in your eyes.
The sunshine emits the warmth of your smile.
I am grateful for the times we shard as mother and daughter.
I cherish the times we cried in each other's arms.
I know that the path I chose to take in life wasn't the one you would have me walk, but what is important here is that ultimately we were able to agree to disagree, and with love still remain as mother and daughter, and most of all, as friends.

As I continue to walk this Earth and live my life, it remains that you may no longer exist for my eyes to see, but are envisioned in my heart forever.
Be At Peace
Love Your Daughter

Fortunately I am not dealing with unresolved resentments, or anger, I am just dealing with the loss. I love you mom and I know that she watches from wherever her spirit is.


VG Pometta's picture

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Compassionist's picture

My Condolences...

Your poem is a lovely dedication to your mother.

I also commend you in your courage during recovery. I helped with street outreach by gathering donations to help people survive the trauma of addiction. It is both a heartbreaking and inspiring form of volunteerism.

Jennifer Ruwart's picture

Will you join me


Your poem is so beautiful. I honor you for seizing the gift of your mother. Maybe you would like to share your poem in the group Celebrating Mothers Worldwide?

I also honor your honesty and courage. That you have found inner peace shows. You look absolutely radiant in your picture.

All my best,

Jensine's picture

Mother tears

VG -
Your poem is so powerful, it brought tears to my eyes and goosebumps all at once. It is a poem that I feel for my own mother in many ways. Thank you for stirring the love in my heart I have for her all over again. Your courage and your peace is spilling over. Thank you for sharing this moment with our community.

Jensine Larsen
World Pulse

I am so sorry to hear of the loss of your mother. My mom passed away suddenly when I was 18, and it is one of the hardest and most profound things I have experienced. I've found that the grief doesn't ever go away, it just changes over time.

There is a book I think you may be interested in called "Motherless Daughters" by Hope Edelman. I wish I had had it from the beginning. You can find it here:

Keep writing and sharing your experiences and memories. It's what got me through.

With all my heart,

VG Pometta's picture


Yes I have been told that the grief process takes time. I am grateful for not having to say "I should have said this or I should have done that". I can just imagine what I would go through if I did. I periodically wake in the middle of the night crying. Or out of the blue I will think about her. I know that I must carry on with my life as usual, and as she would want me to. I am so grateful for having a good relationship with her after not having any kind of relationship with her for so many years... Thank you for your comment.

VG Pometta's picture

A Golden Cross

It was just weeks ago when I received an e-mail from the oldest of my brothers. I knew instinctively that something was wrong. Sure enough the message relayed that my mother had died. Last week we held the memorial for her at Duncan's Landing,one of several small beaches along the northern coast. It was nice to be among family; some who I had not seen for thirty years or so. It was strange to look upon faces that I had not seen since I was a child. Memories came and went and as I looked upon the ocean, I had wondered if my mom was at peace. I wondered if she held any fears about death. She had battled with diabetes for most of her life. As she got older it was harder to battle it. Her latest war with this disease had begun to chip away at her body. It began with an ingrown toenail which became infected. In spite of the treatment the infection returned and she had to have her toes removed on one foot. Her vision had already been affected still this disease demanded more. Prior to her death she had a second surgery to remove a part of her foot. I can only imagine what thoughts ran through her mind.

There was a small group of us to pay our last respects. My brothers and I gathered together and I recited the poem that I had written and posted in my last journal. Each of us had something to say. Her sister also stood there and with tears in her eyes confirmed what I believed my mom must have felt after her surgery. She had said that my mom's biggest fear was to lose her leg. I can just imagine what she must have thought watching her body being cut off a piece at a time. After our word my brothers and I found an area overlooking the water and began taking turns spreading her ashes over a place where she loved to be. This was her favorite place and came here quite often. When it was my turn I felt it would be right to take her and in my hands let the breeze take her away. I whispered my good bye's and gave her my love.

After the day was over I was still in a state of melancholy and did not speak much on the way back. I was glad that the day was over and happy that it went well, but I was emotionally drained. Before I went my separate way my aunt wanted to give me some things that my mom wanted me to have. Antique tea cups and saucers. Stuffed animals, an old doll, a few nick nacks, but what was the most important gift that told me that my mom died in peace, that she did not die resentful, or with hate in her heart was a little golden cross.
I remember as a child my mother saying that she was not a believer. She did not believe in a God, nor did she have an interest in any religion. This had bothered me to some extent as I recall. I never did see her enter a church. Of all the things I could have gotten this little cross gave me peace of mind and a sense of joy knowing that my mom found spiritual food for her soul. Yes it had only been a week since I said good bye to her, but as I look upon the clouds and feel the warmth of sunshine upon my face, I know that my mom will always be with me, forever...

I want to thank those who commented on my last journal entry. Thank you all for being there for me. It is nice to know that I am not alone, and that in spite of the distance between us, I feel a closeness to you all. Thank you so much.

Auma's picture

In honour of VG Pometta's mother.

Dearest VG Pometta,
Through sorrow and strain
Your life must remain
The loss of a mum can never be replaced
But it can be only be honored,and can be graced
By respecting her inner will,by being the girl she LOVED.

Dearest Leila
This weak string,that ties me and you
Can't we make it stronger,shiny and new?
Long after we part
It will bond us
As grass grows on the grave,our spirits will fondly wave
Deep down in my heart,i have shed off the fear
We will be closer,when we finally part
For the string gets stronger,as the days draw nearer...

VG Pometta's picture


I was just taking care of some computer business, and I stopped off at pulse. It has been a long time since I have been at this site, so please forgive me for not responding sooner. I read your poem honoring my mother, and I want to thank you from the depths of my soul. It is beautiful. The holidays are coming up and I just realized a couple of days ago that I won't be seeing my mom this holiday season. I hope that you are doing well, and that this holiday season brings you immense love and joy. Thank you again for reaching out to me and my mom.

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