I wrote this piece the end of October. Finally posting...

I rarely discuss anything deeply personal on my blog. Sometimes there must be exceptions. My mother, whom I loved with every ounce of my being, died on October 16th. I flew down to her home in Florida a couple weeks ago to say my final good-bye. Hardest thing I've ever done. She took my hand,  seemed to know she was leaving soon. Her last words to me were, "I guess this is our final good-bye." Although dementia had taken over, she said my name and yes, she knew me, if only for a moment. I broke down when I left the room. The finality was overwhelming. Loving her so much and knowing she was leaving forever was too much for my heart.
I wanted to stay with my mom in FL, but no one knew how long she'd hang on.  She had 'almost' left us a few times and then rallied. Her doctor said she'd probably live anywhere from a week to a month. She died less than two weeks after I left.
I went back to work after a week in Florida. My work is with small children as a therapist and they also need me. Tough call.
My mom was once my my best friend. When I knew her death was imminent, I went to Block Island in search of peace. It is a place I've visited countless times over the years. I would've called my mom when I arrived on the island as always I did in the past. She often seemed to live vicariously through my little adventures.
My mom loved the sea and gave me the gift of knowing and loving the ocean. Every year she took our family to a beach in Virginia for a vacation. I have memories of a lovely cottage surrounded by sand and endless hours swimming/playing in the sea. Wonderfully happy times. I remember being in the ocean with my mom. She would carry me in her arms when I was a small child way out beyond the breakers. No fear for her and she instilled that in me. I still often swim out beyond big waves with reckless abandon.
Like the sea, there is an ebb and flow to my grief. At times it comes crashing over me and I feel as if I'm drowning. I'm brought to my knees. Then there are times where it's a gentle flow and I know I'm going to be alright. I sense my mom is still with me, in a better place.
Today's blog is for my mom. I will miss her always.

“I thought of you and how you love this beauty,
And walking up the long beach all alone
I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder
As you and I once heard their monotone.
...

Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me
The cold and sparkling silver of the sea --
We two will pass through death and ages lengthen
Before you hear that sound again with me.”
― Sara Teasdale

Block Island