Monday, October 27, 2008


I shared my post yesterday with DH and we had a really great conversation. I was trying to explain to him how I felt, wondering if I truly communicated what I had been feeling. Mind you, my post wasn't long and he prefers few words to long, rambling, analyzing text. So often we are busy with other things, the daily caretaking of domestic crap to truly talk about other things, that I was grateful to have his complete attention. As a matter of fact, we had a really nice weekend really talking to each other. We went for a long walk in the endowment lands with his friend's dog that we had for the weekend. A black, flatcoat retriever named Moose. One of Sampson's buddies. He's kinda like the developmentally challenged younger brother. He looks similar to Samps but his hair is longer and silkier. He has the worst case of separation anxiety I've seen in a dog. He's needy and annoying and cute as hell at the same time.

I'm beginning to realize I can't fix my friend but I can do what I have learned. I went to my Buddhist discussion group yesterday afternoon, all excited. The theme was gratitude. We had guests and I told them my experience with my mum and my practice and how I felt ready to deal with friend. Not full of sorrow but feeling prepared and calm that I could offer my bubbly chatter, my silence, my ability to support her in whatever way she needed. This girl in her 20s spoke up. Her mother has been diagnosed with breast cancer and she was sad and worried and scared to death. She told me her mother was tough, but she was conflicted at whether she had to be positive all the time despite being weighed down by grief. She so desperately wanted to be strong for her mum. We all assured her that what she was feeling was normal, grief was inevitable, that she could develop a life condition that would give her what she needed.

She told me I was inspirational. I told her that her mum was lucky to have such a wonderful caring daughter. I was so happy that we could make her feel heard and understood at a time that she most needed it. One of our members had thyroid cancer in the past and she shared some amazing encouragement.

I am constantly reminded of what it means to be a mother, a daughter, to nurture and be needed. This yearning has been like a kind of grief for me for so long. I can't know the love of a developing life in side of me and the agony of losing it. I think of my friends out there, some of you, that have experienced this. I am ashamed to admit that years ago, I was envious that some had been a mother if only for a brief time, had something real to mourn. Can you believe that? Yep. Infertile women can. The ego knows no shame. I bow to your Buddha nature. I am only humbled by your ability to know that kind of love and remember.

I pray for Devadatta's safe journey and return. I am happy that I will see her soon. Thanks for listening/reading.


annacyclopedia said...

Oh, beautiful, beautiful post, Deathstar! There is something so special about a group of like-minded people and the unique support and care they can give each other - I know my meditation circles can be like that quite often.

And all the richness of the mothering and daughtering we do, in different ways and with different people, nurturing and being nurtured, needing and being needed.

Thanks for this post, Deathstar. I needed to connect with that tenderness in me today, and I didn't even know it.

Pamela T. said...

The best gifts are those of insight and understanding -- both given and received.

eemilla said...

I am so grateful for your blog. Thank you.