We have a day to honor mothers and one for fathers and yet I sit here today feeling enveloped by my mother who passed away in February 2005. She is here with me, in me, with her sweet smile and desire always for peace.
I used to think she should be stronger in judgment, or what I preferred to call discernment, but now I understand. There is a place of letting go, of gentle strength, the Mr. Rogers type of strength.
I revel in her knowing these words of Nipun Mehta.
Surrender isn’t a sacrifice of the known but rather a celebration of the infinite.
There are many cars on the train we are on, and we can’t see and seam them all at one time but my mother is here.
