The Talk Show with Ethel and Maria Eugenia
My grandmother Lola, my mom, and I
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Today, I decided to read some old letters and birthday cards that my mom wrote me throughout the years. I am so pleased to have saved them! As I read them, I find myself at that age, in that place. And for pure joy, I let my emotions flow freely as I live each of her words.
It has been two weeks since my mom parted. As I think of the time passed, from that day till now, I can't tell for sure if it feels like two weeks, or any time at all. I know she is not with us. I mean on this matter existence. Thou I have to tell you, I feel sometimes, as if she is next to me. I am not sure if it is denial, a mind game, myself looking badly for her, or if God/Creator/Universe loves to treat me with this amazing feeling. I always talk to God/Creator/Universe. It is a habit of mine to talk to the plants, bugs, animals, the stars, far away planets, and even to extraterrestrial beings just in case. In fact my mom and I used to talk about it all the time. And we always thought, "yes of course, there has to be another life form in some distant place". And after we have finished talking about something that could be feasible, we moved on to the mysterious talks of "life after death". A topic we really loved to get into it. It was like a Talk series show! Mom would tell me about her strange experiences, and I would tell her about mine. We both knew that there has to be something after we die because each of us believed firmly in our own strange la la la. We would try to understand it. "How could it be explained?"" Lets put reason to it". "Lets test it". "Lets just believe!" Isn't the latter one just the perfect choice? But of course, doubt is always there. Leave it to doubt to kill a dream! But because mom was a dreamer and "romanticona", (romantic), and I am a dreamer, but Mom was her, and I am, well, you know me, (?) not... We believed.
Then we would talk about the fear of dying. I would explain to my mom, by first describing as to how we live, and how hard we hold on to what we know. "Mom, lets say we have one serving of food to eat. It looks dreadful. It might taste pretty bad. It might be old. It might make us sick! But that's the only food serving maybe for a whole day or week. We don't know for how long. But that's it. In order to continue, we must eat it. And we eat it, not so much with fear of not knowing what would happen after, because we have learnt by experience that food gives our bodies, the nourishment to function. Also, this serving is tied up as to whom we are as individuals. And pretty much we will behave accordingly. Some of us, will do the sensible, lets make it into seven portions. Some of us, will wait, and test it by having a bit, to see if it makes us sick. Some of us will eat it all. And so on. It does not matter how it was eaten because, ultimately, we have chosen what we know.
Now, death, is a completely different story. We do not know anything about it. It is not registered in our brains as any lived experience but as an external one when we lose a loved one. We experience infinite pain that pretty much never goes away. This is, because, we stop experiencing the pleasure that the lost loved one, gave us with their laugh, smile, thoughts, love, hands. We are sensorial individuals with tons of emotions, and that is how we live. Many religions talk about the "after life" in different or similar ways with topics as eternity and reincarnation. But not matter what, this is something we do not know. We can't stop experiencing all of this, life, even when we know we will experience pain, illnesses, etc. I mean for most of us. When we think of the after life, we have to admit that sounds like something that detach us from our I. The I that breaths, eats, sleeps, dreams. And this is why we are so fearful of it. We get used to our emotions, both negative and positive. We do not want to leave our enjoyment for food, sex, shopping. We do not want to stop seeing sunsets and sunrises (maybe we become part of it?). If we loose all of this, it means we loose our vanities. So we hold on to this life. The irony of it is that while here, we are willing to cause awful pain to others, and to ourselves in order to hold on to our emotions of pleasure of all kind. So we eat that serving with our ego, telling us the good, the bad, and the ugly. There is no faith involved but logic. I eat. I exist. I am an egomaniac person. I am!! I am alive. Silence... "Mom?" She started to laugh, and I followed her laugh, while describing to my mother the first chimpanzee having his first moment of awareness, and denying the fact that he was a chimpanzee just like we forget that we have just this moment, but we spend it causing hunger, poverty, wars. Then, mom, would asked me, "yes, but what do we become?" And I wondered about that too. "Well, not sure mom, I mean, lets think about each religion, belief, etc. each of them talks about continuity in different ways". Then my mom would say, "you know, I find it funny, that your neighbors from India, tells me that my face reminds them of one of their Goddesses" " It has to be my big eyes!" "Maybe I was a holy cow!" And we both laughed. "Oh mom, please whatever you do the next time around, please not a cow in Italy! Marco eats lots of meat!" And we continued to laugh. Little did we know that she was getting closer to a new beginning.
While in Bogota, I made her laugh many times! When we noticed the absurd, the out of place, the unkindness, we looked at each other. We talked with our eyes, well, I talked with my whole face! She understood me in one second! And then she would motion to me as to how to proceed! Not too many words. not long conversations. I knew she was nervous and scared. If only I could give her the right response.
Still, my mom, through all her pain, both in body and mind, presented herself as best as she could. First thing she would tell me as she woke up, "pass me the mirror and the brush". I would do as she told me, then I would say to my mom, "I am going to the cafeteria to get a cappuccino and arepa de choclo". She would start to motion her hand telling me to fix my hair. I would not do it! After all she was my mom, and I was her daughter, and the fact that she would tell me as to how to present myself at 6:00 AM in a semi empty hospital's cafeteria, just boiled the rebel in me! So I would messed it up even more, I would go to get my breakfast, while mom prepared herself for a morning of doctors and nurses. As I finished my breakfast, I would go up back to her room, we would look at each other, smile, and I would read a passage of a book about the power of the mind.
As I finished going through all her cards and letters, I sat down to write this,( I have been sick with a nasty allergy, cold,sinusitis infection since this past Sunday) I could almost hear my mother's voice, "oh my God Ethel, fix your hair", but as any rebel daughter, "I said no mom, I am going to write about you". And throughout this whole time, she is/was with me.
So lets not answer what we can't but lets open ourselves to it. If we open so much our emotions to this life, why not to open our whole being, the holy one, the one we call soul, to experience what we can't really explain but feel with our soul.
It has been two weeks since my mom parted. As I think of the time passed, from that day till now, I can't tell for sure if it feels like two weeks, or any time at all. I know she is not with us. I mean on this matter existence. Thou I have to tell you, I feel sometimes, as if she is next to me. I am not sure if it is denial, a mind game, myself looking badly for her, or if God/Creator/Universe loves to treat me with this amazing feeling. I always talk to God/Creator/Universe. It is a habit of mine to talk to the plants, bugs, animals, the stars, far away planets, and even to extraterrestrial beings just in case. In fact my mom and I used to talk about it all the time. And we always thought, "yes of course, there has to be another life form in some distant place". And after we have finished talking about something that could be feasible, we moved on to the mysterious talks of "life after death". A topic we really loved to get into it. It was like a Talk series show! Mom would tell me about her strange experiences, and I would tell her about mine. We both knew that there has to be something after we die because each of us believed firmly in our own strange la la la. We would try to understand it. "How could it be explained?"" Lets put reason to it". "Lets test it". "Lets just believe!" Isn't the latter one just the perfect choice? But of course, doubt is always there. Leave it to doubt to kill a dream! But because mom was a dreamer and "romanticona", (romantic), and I am a dreamer, but Mom was her, and I am, well, you know me, (?) not... We believed.
Then we would talk about the fear of dying. I would explain to my mom, by first describing as to how we live, and how hard we hold on to what we know. "Mom, lets say we have one serving of food to eat. It looks dreadful. It might taste pretty bad. It might be old. It might make us sick! But that's the only food serving maybe for a whole day or week. We don't know for how long. But that's it. In order to continue, we must eat it. And we eat it, not so much with fear of not knowing what would happen after, because we have learnt by experience that food gives our bodies, the nourishment to function. Also, this serving is tied up as to whom we are as individuals. And pretty much we will behave accordingly. Some of us, will do the sensible, lets make it into seven portions. Some of us, will wait, and test it by having a bit, to see if it makes us sick. Some of us will eat it all. And so on. It does not matter how it was eaten because, ultimately, we have chosen what we know.
Now, death, is a completely different story. We do not know anything about it. It is not registered in our brains as any lived experience but as an external one when we lose a loved one. We experience infinite pain that pretty much never goes away. This is, because, we stop experiencing the pleasure that the lost loved one, gave us with their laugh, smile, thoughts, love, hands. We are sensorial individuals with tons of emotions, and that is how we live. Many religions talk about the "after life" in different or similar ways with topics as eternity and reincarnation. But not matter what, this is something we do not know. We can't stop experiencing all of this, life, even when we know we will experience pain, illnesses, etc. I mean for most of us. When we think of the after life, we have to admit that sounds like something that detach us from our I. The I that breaths, eats, sleeps, dreams. And this is why we are so fearful of it. We get used to our emotions, both negative and positive. We do not want to leave our enjoyment for food, sex, shopping. We do not want to stop seeing sunsets and sunrises (maybe we become part of it?). If we loose all of this, it means we loose our vanities. So we hold on to this life. The irony of it is that while here, we are willing to cause awful pain to others, and to ourselves in order to hold on to our emotions of pleasure of all kind. So we eat that serving with our ego, telling us the good, the bad, and the ugly. There is no faith involved but logic. I eat. I exist. I am an egomaniac person. I am!! I am alive. Silence... "Mom?" She started to laugh, and I followed her laugh, while describing to my mother the first chimpanzee having his first moment of awareness, and denying the fact that he was a chimpanzee just like we forget that we have just this moment, but we spend it causing hunger, poverty, wars. Then, mom, would asked me, "yes, but what do we become?" And I wondered about that too. "Well, not sure mom, I mean, lets think about each religion, belief, etc. each of them talks about continuity in different ways". Then my mom would say, "you know, I find it funny, that your neighbors from India, tells me that my face reminds them of one of their Goddesses" " It has to be my big eyes!" "Maybe I was a holy cow!" And we both laughed. "Oh mom, please whatever you do the next time around, please not a cow in Italy! Marco eats lots of meat!" And we continued to laugh. Little did we know that she was getting closer to a new beginning.
While in Bogota, I made her laugh many times! When we noticed the absurd, the out of place, the unkindness, we looked at each other. We talked with our eyes, well, I talked with my whole face! She understood me in one second! And then she would motion to me as to how to proceed! Not too many words. not long conversations. I knew she was nervous and scared. If only I could give her the right response.
Still, my mom, through all her pain, both in body and mind, presented herself as best as she could. First thing she would tell me as she woke up, "pass me the mirror and the brush". I would do as she told me, then I would say to my mom, "I am going to the cafeteria to get a cappuccino and arepa de choclo". She would start to motion her hand telling me to fix my hair. I would not do it! After all she was my mom, and I was her daughter, and the fact that she would tell me as to how to present myself at 6:00 AM in a semi empty hospital's cafeteria, just boiled the rebel in me! So I would messed it up even more, I would go to get my breakfast, while mom prepared herself for a morning of doctors and nurses. As I finished my breakfast, I would go up back to her room, we would look at each other, smile, and I would read a passage of a book about the power of the mind.
As I finished going through all her cards and letters, I sat down to write this,( I have been sick with a nasty allergy, cold,sinusitis infection since this past Sunday) I could almost hear my mother's voice, "oh my God Ethel, fix your hair", but as any rebel daughter, "I said no mom, I am going to write about you". And throughout this whole time, she is/was with me.
So lets not answer what we can't but lets open ourselves to it. If we open so much our emotions to this life, why not to open our whole being, the holy one, the one we call soul, to experience what we can't really explain but feel with our soul.