Dear Friends,

As many of you know, I recently lost my mother in June, and we laid her to rest on my birthday. It was an honor to share that day with her, but it was hard. I struggled to find solace in it. I finally worked out the understanding that saying “goodbye” to her on the day of my birth was and always will be a poignant reminder of the bond we shared. And I will need it, because getting through her loss will take a lifetime.

Losing a parent is a surreal experience that touches the deepest parts of our hearts. In our grief, it is as if we are compelled to do one of two things: either to sift through memories, or to move on as quickly as we can so not to give them another moment of our time! I chose the former, and as I peruse through the many memories of my mother, I am not only cherishing her legacy but also uncovering the layers of my own history. (Thank you mom for documenting so many moments of our life so unselfishly.)

Mourning our dear loved one is, to me at least, a therapeutic process. Revisiting moments from my past forces me to face my own narrative, my own story intertwined with hers. Each memory, whether it brings a smile or a tear, presents a chapter of my life that shapes who I am. Seeing that in my mind’s eye, in a way brings me comfort. It reassures me of the love I was given and the challenges I so bravely overcame. It reminds me too, of the pain and the struggles that my mom went through, and how high she set the bar for courage, strength, and love.

In these moments, I see clearly the significant role my mother played in molding me. I realize that now I have become the anchor in my own life. The absence of my mother brings a shift within me, an undeniable change that marks a new stage of adulthood. It’s a moment where I truly “grow up,” as the safety net I always had is no longer there. I find myself stepping into a new role, bearing the weight of my own existence and that of our family’s legacy.

No matter how good a daughter I was, there’s a lingering sense of regret. I feel that I didn’t appreciate her enough, didn’t spend enough time with her, and didn’t have the necessary conversations that could have bridged any gaps in our relationship. I wish I had known her better. Mother was so selfless, and always a giver and doing for others, if there was a selfish side I didn’t see it. I wish I had known more about her growing up, her feelings about being a preacher’s wife and living in a glass house. Her secret desires and wishes… It was only in the later years that I started asking her about more personal things. As long as she could, she would tell me a story. I wish I had made time for more of those conversations. These feelings of regret are natural, and it’s important to acknowledge them without letting them overshadow the love and connection we shared.

Putting all the pieces together after the death of my mom is a process that demands courage and openness. It takes time to sort through emotions and memories, and it’s essential to allow myself to feel everything that comes up. Right now, I feel like my anchor is gone and I am adrift and not sure which way to go or where I will end up. But by facing my feelings head-on, I honor her and myself, and will embrace the growth that I know will come from this profound loss.

In this journey, I strive to be kind to myself. I allow the memories to guide me through the grief, and I remember that in every reflection of my mother, I am also rediscovering parts of myself. This process, though painful, is a testament to the enduring love and influence of my mother’s legacy in my life.

Thank you for your support and understanding during this time. Your love and kindness mean more to me than words can express.

With heartfelt gratitude,

Sandy

Like in the movie “Inception” I could imagine the suburban street with it’s plain vanilla buildings turning inward and then downward like the cubelets on a Rubik’s Cube and transforming into a Parisian street adorned with gold-embellished wrought iron street lights with the gentle hum of steps on centuries old stone streets, bells tolling in the nearby cathedral, and the air arush with activities of clergymen and lovers alike…

As the Bell Tolls and Lovers Go

Hot asphalt, familiar brick buildings, and the clanging reflections that stretch to the top of the clouds of another day

Another blue sky absorbed in the noise

Feeling like a ghost peering out from behind a veil that loosely blocks the vision of another place, another time

Revealing the sounds of sweet voices mingled with grand cathedral prayers in praise of the bells that toll for an empire of beauty that caresses the footsteps of lovers, pilgrims, leading them into a mist of devotion and purity

Constraining them from the mundane

Luring them toward the passionate intercourse of life, love and reflection

The asphalt cools as the streets absorb the sound into a crush’ed block of stone upon stone upon heart, ascending toward a world unknown…

A gentle man quickly rushes by me and his flowing cloak brushes against my skin.

© Sandy Hibbard

I cannot explain the feeling

when i hear a song

you loved

we shared

you sang

the mood that pours over me

swelling up in my heart

creating intense passion and longing for you . . .

embodying the melody

this thing in me

a symphony of memory . . .

instantly ignited with the sound of one note

and there it is

thoughts of you

that pull me deep . . .

maybe it’s love

i don’t know

but it is powerful

and it was beautiful

when we made music together

 
 
 
 
Image by www.tumblr.com/tagged/omega-music

© Sandy Hibbard March 9, 2017

Here’s a little something I wrote on one of those rainy days that brings out in the soul all that makes us long for more meaning in our lives and in our love relationships.  XOXO

Tears to Kiss

When I see the passion of your heart, I cry
When I see your eyes that light the dark, I cry
No other reason why
Your heart bled into mine
Our blood mixed as one
One life in one, giving all to all
I cry
Lightening strikes but once between two hearts
Tears of joy, tears of passion, tears of pain
I cry
For all the reasons I cry
Yet in my heart rages blue sky eternal
The hope for becoming one again
like man and god
sea and sky
meeting in the rain
to kiss

© Sandy Hibbard

It’s getting hot, Summer is (almost) here and I have been sweeping leaves, planting flowers outside and inside, I’m going through old photos, trying to get them in albums and organized – always a chore!  As I look through these photos they evoke so many great (and sometimes painful) memories, it is amazing how much we have all changed.  My mom always said how she wants to “pick a bone with God” on why we had to get shriveled as we get old!  Haha!  Aging is beautiful – and as I get older I am trying to BEAUTIFULLY accept all that it brings.  One of the things I love about my age is the heightened ability to see and hear. Yes, you heard me right.  I am not talking about with my physical eyes and ears, but with my heart and spirit and senses.

I am a late night person, so I regularly experience the sounds and images of the night – the night bird’s song, the changing moon and placement of the stars.  I love the night.  I sometimes sit outside and write in my journal being inspired by the night bird’s song.  Sometimes she is there, sometimes not.  She is elusive and mystical, but always seems to come to me just when I need to hear the pure beauty that accompanies her song – when all else is still and quiet.  Here is a little thing I wrote about that special moment when all attention is focused on the sounds that ARE.

Wings of Night

Calm me wings of night
May I rest in your song not flight
For God gave me not wings that soar
But wings of thought and more
More to see to dream to show
Calm may come where I may know
I’m human
Woman
My song may not always be heard
But it will be in the heart of the night bird
I greet the day before it opens
When the light comes the night bird quietens
Stills not stops
For the night is her home in the tree tops
Where does she go when daylight dawns?
Where does she take her calm?
Waiting
Anticipating
My elusive, mystical friend of the night
Save me a song when all is quiet

© Sandy Hibbard 2011/2024

Image by michellepleasance