The Strangest Thing I’ve Ever Received in the Mail

Today a package arrived and I must say that it is the strangest thing I’ve ever received in the mail. On August 15, 2010 my mother died in her sleep. I received a phone call from my sister in the middle of the night telling me that she had passed on, and my first thought was “I want her ashes.” I know that some might think that cremation is not the best way to preserve the dead, but for me it was the perfect solution. I felt that I could finally have a part of my mother that had not been present in my life since I was less than nine years old. I hadn’t spoken to my mother in a very long time, and the last time I actually saw her was the day my sister and I got on a plane to come out and live with my dad. I was nine years old. I’m almost 42 years old and its about time that I am reunited with her.

I don’t have anything good to say about my mother, unfortunately, because I didn’t know her. I can’t make up some bogus feelings to get all mushy and gushy since she died, but needless to say, I’m very happy that she arrived in the mail. That sounded so strange didn’t it? Yes, my mom arrived today in a box along with her death certificate. I can’t go back and rewrite my relationship with her, nor can I deny the hurt she has caused to myself and siblings, but I can now say that she is finally resting and at peace. I forgave my mother a very long time ago for all the ways she hurt me and my siblings, and I truly wished her no ill will through out her life.

My mother never got to meet my children, experience the beauty of their souls, get to know each of them or even look into their eyes. I’ve shared with my children when they were old enough to understand, the kind of life my mother chose for herself. There is nothing to be ashamed of on my part in sharing who their grandmother was. I’m not ashamed of my mother for being a heroin addict and prostitute, or for all the time she has spent in prison. No, there is nothing to be ashamed of, and I want my children to understand that each person gets to choose for themselves the kind of life they want to live. Some feel they are trapped by circumstances, others want to be victims, but as for my mother, I choose to believe that while she was an addict, she lived her life to the fullest that she could.

After her death, I talked to a man who shared his life with her over the past 15 or more years. I’m fuzzy on the exact amount of time they were together, but I must say that the only time I cried after my mother’s death was while speaking to her partner. This man loved my mother with all that was in him. His heart was broken in a million pieces when he awoke to find my mother had passed away as she slept next to him. He loved her. My heart broke for him and I couldn’t help but grieve with him. Yet I had no feelings of my own concerning her death at that time. I accept that I feel this way…at least it’s honest.

I emailed my brother today to thank him for sending mom to me in the mail (still sounds so bizarre!) and he wrote me back to tell me that after he had sent some of my mom’s ashes to her partner and after receiving them, he died…it was as if he refused to die (he had an advanced form of cancer) until she was in his hands. His wishes where that they be buried together in a plot he already had. He got his wish, and now he too is resting and at peace buried with the woman he loved with all that was in him.

The feelings I have now concerning my mother’s death, is that I finally have a part of her that I can keep with us. Her ashes will be divided into several different parts, and she will be buried in the earth beneath different fruit trees on our property. Some ashes will be reserved and sealed and I will be taking them with me to Israel to bury her in Hebron. The significance of planting her beneath fruit trees is profound to me; although I never got to experience my mother as a nurturing and loving soul, filled with wisdom, understanding, strength and dignity, I know that in her death, she will nourish many of the fruit trees we will be planting on our property, provide fruit in season, shade in the summer, branches for birds and other animals to dwell in, sing to us on windy days as the leaves from the trees gently whisper a soulful tune, grace us with the sweetest of fragrance in spring time as blossoms perfume the air, and as the fruit set and ripen, the most deliciously sweet fruit you will ever taste will enter your mouth and quite possibly even your soul. This is the beauty of a fruit tree, this shall be how I choose to honor my mother.