A Series of Extraordinary Small Things
Easter Monday, 13th April, 2020.
Cleaning up boxes in preparation for a move – one day? Perhaps next door? I found some books, which prompted me to write the following.
A few days after my Mom died (she died on 13th October 2009 – exactly 11 years and six months ago today ….) I went to spend a few days in her little unit at Cleland Lodge, where she had been living for only ten days before she died.
The Welcome Balloons and ‘Welcome to Your New Home’ sign I had made for her still hung at her front door. I walked in, and it was in pitch darkness as the curtains were closed. I leaned against the door, I smelled her smell, and felt her all around me, I was shaking with grief and fear – fear of living life without her, and I prayed for courage to do what I needed to do. I was here to spend three days before her funeral, to grieve. Alone. I wanted to sleep in her bed, wear her pyjamas, eat her food, have a bath in her bathtub, use her soap and her towel and her hairbrush and her perfume, and cry and rage and sob in any way I wanted to, without thought for another. I asked Gerald and Josh and Sue and my friends not to contact me – some felt I was being ‘ghoulish’ – but I knew this was what I needed to do. I also needed to sort out her belongings, and to select an out fit for her to wear to her funeral.
I started to cry and called out to her “Mom????? ” I heard her voice, as clear as a bell, “Put the kettle on, babe!” So I did. The milk was still in her fridge, along with cheese and fruit and a few other items, still fresh. I made a cuppa and spoke to her again. “Where do I start?” and she answered “My dressing table, top drawer.” I went to it, and the first thing I spied was a little angel in perspex (its in the black wallet in my handbag, with her and Dad’s rosaries) I had given her some years previously, and with it was a note “An Angel to Guide You”. I placed her in my bra.
I went through her drawers, her cosmetics, her clothes, her fridge, her toiletries in the bathroom, and the magazines and books she was reading in the lounge. And then, I turned to the bookcases in the hall which Gerald had so recently installed, to hold an impressive collection – my parents were both great readers, my Dad preferred history, and my Mom loved romance! I heard her say “Top shelf, left hand side.” I did as I was told. There were several books by Helen Steiner Rice, but my hands went straight to one slender book. The flyleaf was written by my brother, who had given this book to my parents, and I forget the words now (I sent it to him some years ago) but it was something like “I love you and I’m grateful to you” – words I seldom, if ever, heard my brother speak. It was a gift to me to see that.
Then I heard her say: Pick up this one.” And my hand went straight to a tiny book entitled “Wings of the Morning”. On the flyleaf, written in my very young hand writing says:
“To Darling Mommy,
When you feel alone or unhappy – take comfort in this book. Read it, think of me, and remember that I’ll always, always love you. From Sandra xxx Christmas 1969” (eleven months after Gerald and I got married) There is an asterisk “*See Page 29.” I turned to page 29, and a passport sized photograph of my Mom fell out. I picked it up, and on the back, she had written in green ink “I love you all looking at my little bits and pieces xxx” I felt her near me, and I read the poem she had highlighted:
This is the Poem:
XXIII
Guiding Hand
When you’re worried and perplexed, uncertain and in doubt – When you’re in the darkness, and it seems there’s no way out …. Fling yourself upon a Power that’s greater than your own – Kneel in all humility before the Unseen Throne; Ask for Wisdom; when your prayer is answered you will know – how to act and what to say – the way that you must go …. You will be directed – for your footsteps will be led – Doubt will fade – the path will clear and you will go ahead……You will hear an inward Voice that tells you what to do – You will know with your heart the course you must pursue.
You’ll be taken safely through your troubles and your cares – step by step you’ll struggle through the press of your affairs. Though the way you go is not the way that you had planned – Trust, look up – have faith – reach out – and take the Guiding Hand.
I spent hours lying in the bath, crying, sobbing uncontrollably, I slept and walked and prayed and called out to my parents. To have lost them both in six months felt like my life had ended, I asked them to help me keep living, as a wife and a mother and a friend and to give me strength to give her the funeral she so deserved. I spoke to Gerald once a day.
On the third day, I received a text message from Sue. She said: “I respect your decision if you do not want to see me. But if you do, I’m at Mom’s front door, and I have a bottle of champagne.” I opened that door so fast, and we hugged and cried together, that act of friendship touched me so deeply and is something I will never forget. We drank that bottle of champagne and we talked and cried and even shared a few laughs. She helped me tackle Mom’s wardrobe, where I found a bag my Mom had bought for my birthday present – and where, unknown to me, Sue found a card my Mom had bought for my 60th birthday, coming up in two months time. “To My Daughter on her 60th”. Sue took that card away and on my 60th on 15th November, she gave it to me, with a message from my Mother. She said she sat and asked my Mom to ‘write through her’ – and she did, she said she ‘channelled’ my mother. Here it is:
“15/11/09
My Darling Girl,
Ohh ow I wish I could be there to hold you and tell you just how much I love you.
For 60+ years I hae loved you and been blessed to have you as my duahgter – you have done me proud!
I know that this time will be very hard for you, but trust me Baby Girl, I am watching over you and I will be guiding you as I always have – only it will be from a greater distance.
I am so sorry that I had to leave you darling but you must trust me when I say that I had to go – Dad was just not coping iwhtoiut me – He was in a real mess up here – Not used to having to go ahead – you know. Don’t worry, I’ve sorted it all now but oh Sandra, the mess! I’ve had to scrub a few wings that just weren’t up to standard – I used loads of bleach and everything is the white that it should be.
I love you Baby, Don’t cry, I am where I should be and you are where you should be – We will meet again but until then Happy, Happy Birthday – love and kisses and hugs
Mom xxx “
(Written by Sue Hobson for Sandra Groom)
The day after my Mom’s funeral, I woke up and Cindy Taylor who had come to stay with me to help me through, came and climbed into bed with me, after Gerald went to make tea. She held me as a cried, and then I got out of bed, and heard my Mom speak “Open the book. The book in your bedside cabinet.” I told Cindy I’d just heard Mom, and she said – “Open the book then!” There were many books in my cabinet, but my hand went straight to this one, “Lovingly” by Helen Steiner Rice, which has a typed not stuck to its flyleaf, signed by my Dad “To our dear Sandra who loves Everything poetic in her life. All our love, Mom and Dad. Xxx” And in my Mom’s writing, the note “Page 59” I went straight to page 59, to a poem from a mother to her children after her death.
“A Mother’s Farewell to her Children”
When I must leave you
For a little while,
Please do not grieve
and shed wild tears
And hug your sorrow
To you through the years,
But start out bravely
With a gallant smile;
And for my sake
And in my name
Live on and do
All things the same,
Feed not your loneliness
On empty days,
But fill each waking hour
In useful ways,
Reach out your hand
In comfort and in cheer
And I in turn will comfort you
And hold you near;
And never, never
Be afraid to die,
For I am waiting for you in the sky!
I knew she was there with me.
Blessings on you Mother.