My Mamma, Dorothy Steele Parker slipped away on angels' wings at 7:02 pm, August 9th 2001. I loved her so. This journal (which has sunflowers on its cover) reminded me of her somewhat. Sunshine sparkled in her eyes when she was happy. Mama was pretty as a flower. Delicate. Nothing glamorous - just the beauty of nature itself and an inner beauty of a very old soul.
Papa and I each spent time alone with you the day you crossed over, Mamma. Remember? I needed that time. So did you. With each of us. Alone. I needed it to study your face and imprint it into my heart. I needed to stoke your hair, kiss you, and to hold your hands. To share with you all my thoughts of the moment. You lay quietly, enjoying our closeness, squeezing my hand now and then. Opening your eyes to look into mine from time to time. There were moments when you would gently pull my hand to your mouth and kiss me with only the tenderness great love can impart.
"You're going to cross over soon, Mamma., I began. So many people who love you are waiting. Granny and Wayne will be coming to take you there Mamma, so show you the way. When you see that beautiful light - it's OK for you to go. I've heard the light is filled with so much love you simply long to follow it. We are going to miss you terribly Mama. We will be together again in the blink of a Universal Eye. Don't concern yourself about Papa. We will take care of each other, you know that.
I want to thank you for the honour of being your daughter. I believe we chose each other before we came to earth this time. You opened your eyes and looked deeply into mine when I said that. Anyway, Mamma, we were so fortunate to have each other. Don't you think we were lucky? I have learned so much from you. Remember you and I when I was little? Doing the washing every Monday. Hanging it on the clothesline together. If we had time, we would lie on our backs in the grass and find pictures in the clouds. Sometimes I would put my face over yours - upside down. You would talk and I would laugh myself silly because it looked so funny to see you talking 'upside down'. We did everything together. You at one end of the table and me at the other. In the old kitchen in the old house --- remember, Mamma?? We would iron together. You would put my little sad iron on the old wood stove and I'd be in charge of ironing Papa's hankies. We'd make bread together. That's where you taught me to knead the dough. I'd make Papa a bread man with raisins for his face and down his tummy for buttons. When you made big pies, I made little pies. I had my little rolling pin. Cookies, cakes, chocolates, bread, pies - all at that old table. My very favorite was your chocolate devils' food cake. Remember Mamma? You'd always make that for my birthday. And remember cleaning chickens? You would scald them in boiling water and pluck them and open them up with a big knife. I got to take their innards out! I loved that part. They were warm inside and my little hands used to be enthralled pulling everything out and inspect it. Opening the gizzard to see what it had eaten was fascintating to me. You were so delighted I loved to gut them. It was not high on your list of faves.
Then I went through my saucy hateful state. I'm so sorry I hurt you Mama. I didn't mean to - I just wanted you to 'react' in some way, any way, instead of pulling away and going inside that hard shell of yours. I never understood any of that until you told me your story many many years later, when you were 90 years old. You carried that with you for all that time. It made me so sad. I understand everything now. I understand YOU now. How honoured I am you were able to share that with me Mamma while you were still here in this lifetime. It has given me great peace about our past. You will never know how much that meant to me.
And then we had all our shopping trips and lunches out. You taught me 'how to be a Lady'. You taught me about the arts. We went to all the childrens' plays at Vic and you gave me a taste for theatre and music. You took be shopping to see lovely things. You took me to see art and listen to live music -- ah, Mamma, remember all those musicals we went to? Live at the old theatre? L and I used to sit on the balcony and spit sun flower seeds over the railing. Much to your horror when you and AF found out! You taught me about dressing and looking nice. You taught me manners. You taught me how to entertain and make good conversation. You taught me how to 'work a room' and make others feel comfortable. You taught me about God. You taught me how to pray. How can I ever thank you?
What else, Mamma? What about our travels together. Had some fun doing that didn't we? Visiting me when I lived in Britain, traveling to Europe, Hawaii and the States? Some good laughs Mamma, some good laughs. So many things, so many things .... my voice became low and drifted I off into thought.
If you can send me messages or signs from the other side, you will won't you Mamma? I know you always understood about those things. Your understood about being physic. You understood about your own intuition. It scared you, but you knew. That side of being human was always of interest to you, even if you were unable to act on it.
We will always love you my sweetheart. Remember, we are only a breath away." Just then the door opened and Papa came in. "You will always be in our hearts and we will never ever forget you." Papa stood beside me, tears trickling down his cheeks, his hand gently and reassuringly on my shoulder.
I don't know what Papa said to his lady love during his time alone with her that day. I know that he too held her hands, kissed her, stroked her brow, and spoke softly to her through his tears, just as I did.
That August evening - not long after we left, Mamma chose to slip away peacefully on Angels wings. We told her we were going home for dinner and would be right back. For whatever reasons, she chose not to wait for us. It was what she wanted and we accepted that. We had both wanted to be with her when she crossed over. We had to come to terms with that.
Later that night, after Papa and I had sat with her body for a long time, we said our earthly good byes. I will never forget the love on Papa's face when he kissed her good bye and told her softly and with a wavering voice "I'll be along in a little while." He walked toward the door. Halfway there he hesitated for just a second, turned and went back to her bedside. He put his hand on her forehead. Bending down close to her said, "Thank you for being my partner, because that's what you were -- my partner'. He kissed her one more time and slowly pulled himself back to a standing position. Mopping his eyes with his handkerchief he slowly moved toward me, took my hand and we left the room together.
It was a scene of 57 years together. A love which had grown strength on strength time. It was a scene of true love I shall never forget. Bitter and ever so sweet at the same time.
August 20, 2001.
