Some vivid childhood memories that I have with my mom are the situations when she would hold my hand when we cross a street. My young brain was instinctively programmed by my mom that the starting point of crossing the street is by initially grabbing my then little hand.
Her grip turning firmer to my young little hand is the signal that we would have to commence striding a street no matter how narrow, busy or dangerous the crossing would be. I consider this simple yet distinct memory as a symbol and representation of my mother’s care, love and attention. Though the childhood experience of crossing a street with my mom seem too plain and too basic, I also consider her firm grip as a way of conveying that while crossing the street, I would be just fine.
On the last day of my mom on her deathbed, I was the one who was gripping unto her hand. It was me whom she was with when she crossed not a busy highway, not a narrow road and not a dangerous street. And while she crossed over to Joy and Forever, as if to symbolically reciprocate back her care, love and attention, my hand firmly gripped hers. I then gently whispered and conveyed to her in a reassuring manner that everything and every people she would leave behind will be just fine. This too would be one of the most vivid memories of my life.
Life is a circle 🙏
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💙 so true
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Extending my most sincere condolences.
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Heartfelt thanks 🌼
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Here’s to your mom
and you
may you stay fine
all the time
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Sincerest thanks 🌸
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Reading this was painful in an inexplicable way. I extend my heartiest condolences to you, I hope you have the strength to navigate through this loss. Much love.
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Had a lump in my throat when I finished writing it. 😌 thank you so much 🌸
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I’m with you my dude. You’re welcome :)) ❤
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It is impossible to express condolences. May her soul rest in peace.
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Thank you 💌💌💌
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❤
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💟
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Love to you, and her.
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Thank you so much 💌
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Beautiful memories about your mother. They pulled at my heart!
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Oh. Thank you so so much 💕
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Happy for you that you got to be there for her last transition. Sounds like it was a good death, if you don’t mind my saying so.
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Though it was heartbreaking, tt was neverthless a huge blessing and consolation. My siblings were in fact a bit envious that I had such an opportunity. 😌
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What a moving tribute to your mum.
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Thank you Rachel
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What a sweet memory. I’m so glad you got to be with your Mom when she died. I am very grateful that my son and I were able to be with my Mom when she died. I chanted over her body in the hospital for a day while waiting for my son to fly in to see her before she died. We were both with her, talking to her, holding her hands while she died. I had felt her soul outside her body the day before so I’m glad she held on until my son arrived. She wasn’t conscious but I know she knew what was going on. It is such an honor to be with someone during that sacred time. Many blessings and support to you!
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Thank you katelon 💗💗💗
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A Mother’s love and you, as her son, repaid that love in her moment of passing. Beautiful !
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Thank you 💌
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Very beautiful and touching this memory of your mother – Her teachings will never leave you, like her hand, ideally it will always remain in yours !! ❤
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Thank you so much. She will definitely be remembered 🌹🌹🌹
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My sincere condolences. This brought me back to the time I held my father’s hand some 21 years ago before his passing. Even in the midst of the grief and sadness know that you were blessed to be there. Because with the act of holding her hand you were saying I love you and I will miss you always.
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❤ thanks sincerely ❤
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Such a wonderfully written piece. Coming from the heart. Am sure your mom is still around, holding your hand still, as you walk the proverbial busy street of life. Be happy in the countless indelible memories she left you with.
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Thank you so much…
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Sorry for your loss. But you make me realise, why hand holding is essential in life. I miss hand shakes and being able to see the whole face of a person. I cannot get over how most countries have banned those things due to this pandemic.
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💟💟💟
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Sorry for your loss! Nothing like the holding your moms hand.
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