I bought my condo in Vancouver not long after My Little Mom was diagnosed with what we later found out was terminal cancer but before she showed any signs of illness.
At the time, I was in denial and hopeful she’d visit me (from Vancouver Island).
But when she said, “Maybe” and tried to smile, her eyes betrayed her and I knew she knew that would never happen.
But denial can be a powerful motivator.
“You will not die.” My brother and I decided.
My sister was not in denial. Her husband had been taken the month before Mom’s diagnosis with the same disease.
So she wisely cashed in her hope for tears and cried and cried and cried.
My brother and I tried to save Our Little Mom with natural medicine because the doctors wouldn’t do anything.
But Our Little Mom was tired and resigned.
And even though she loved us so much and knew the suffering we’d experience without her, she was “ready to be with the Lord.”
I cried and cried and cried.
Sometime later, when we were packing up the items on her bedside table, I found the colour brochure I’d given her of my condo.
She’d kept it there to visualize where I was in the world.
To stay close to me.
Due to health care costs, financial strain, and economic fear, I just sold my condo.
A few days ago, when I received the final subject removals—it’s sold and there’s no going back—I cried and cried.
I hadn’t realized until that moment I’d be feeling such loss again.
Another link to MLM is gone, and another chapter closing.
A dear friend consoled me, “Your Mom will always be with you, Anna. It sold very quickly, maybe that was her way of telling you it’s ok to let go.”
Where Am I?
Indeed, I am back where I started.
Tucked away in a rural area between the place I grew up and the place I grew wings.
Until my health and wealth improve and my mottled feathers fluff up again to see where the wind carries this brave little bird.