Prepared But Never Ready

In this heartfelt talk, Maggie shares the recent loss of her mother. She talks about the concept of impermanence and letting go of our attachments and relates it to her own growth and spiritual development.

Trigger Warning: This practice may include references to death, dying, and the departed.

Transcript

Well,

Hello there.

I don't know.

Today's a little bit different than most of what I share.

My mom just died and you know,

Some of us are super close to our parents.

Others of us are not and I debated about whether or not to share this news with all of you,

But I decided that as a spiritual teacher with some serious Buddhist study underneath me.

It would be silly or foolish of me not to,

You know,

We're all bound to Buddha's first Noble Truth.

Really that life involves suffering and that suffering for each of us can look very very different whether it's physical suffering,

Emotional suffering,

Deep deep wounding from our childhood or anything like that,

You know,

But when we become a Sangha,

Which is,

You know,

The Buddhist term for a community of like-minded people joining together to sort of share their experiences with their spiritual path or along the spiritual path.

When we become a Sangha that learns to suffer together and not to cause one another to suffer,

Beautiful things can happen and it's really in life suffering that we grow,

Right?

I mean without the suffering,

How would we be challenged and I for one don't believe that any of us grow without challenge,

Right?

So my mother's death while so painful and so sad reminds me of how precious my relationship with her was and how lucky I was to have her in my life for as long as I did.

I'm 61 and she just died at 87.

I don't know how many people in their 60s can say their parents are still alive.

So I'm really lucky right there,

Right?

I'm so very blessed.

My children now in their 20s are also blessed to have had as much time with grandma in their lives as they did.

When we try to hold on to the people and the things in our lives,

We also suffer and that's Buddha's second Noble Truth,

Right?

That we are the cause of our own suffering through our attachments and our clinging and our attempts to hold on.

Trying to hold on to mom would only have caused me more suffering.

My own attachment to her would have ended up feeling selfish.

Letting her go was the biggest act of kindness I could possibly have given her and honestly,

Myself.

I don't want the I'm sorry for your loss or the pity.

My mother lived a beautiful and full life.

14 grandchildren,

Four great-grandchildren,

A bucket full of close friends who loved and adored her,

Even a little boyfriend.

She traveled the world,

Lived abroad for some time.

She was married twice,

Had tremendous faith in God.

She was ready to go too and we even talked about it.

Her death also reminds me of Buddhism's most prominent teaching of impermanence.

The impermanence of the leaves on the trees.

That bee that's sitting on the flower outside my window right this minute.

My dog,

My children,

You and me.

While everyone knew my mother's death was imminent,

It still catches you off guard.

I don't think any of us are ready,

Even if we're prepared.

I miss her terribly already and I find myself trying to thinking or at least picking up the phone just to talk to her.

You know,

Those mindless hour-long chats about absolutely nothing.

That's I think what I miss so much along with her sweet,

Sweet little smile and her laugh.

Her energetic,

Happy little self.

Her kindness,

All of her.

You know,

I'm so grateful to have been able to travel up to Santa Rosa every three to six weeks where she lived just to spend a few days with her over the past year and a half since we found out that she was dying.

In those times,

We've been able to share all sorts of silly stories,

Old stories about my time growing up with her in Spain,

Her memories of her travels and her times with my dad and all sorts of family dramas and gossip.

Each time I visited her,

I brought her a full three-pound box of See's Candy.

And if you're from the West Coast,

You know what that is,

Right?

And See's Candy was her favorite.

And I just got to watch her as she so eagerly set about to eat at least half of an entire layer in only three days.

We'd do another one of her little tricky 1,

000-piece puzzles and we'd curl up on the couch to watch movies together.

And the greatest blessing of it all was there wasn't anything left in the unsaid.

My mother knew how much I loved her and I told her as much and I knew how much she loved me and she told me as much too.

Everyone loved Mimi.

My mother could have made friends with an aunt.

She was a beautiful soul and a beautiful person inside and out.

And I'm lucky to have inherited some of her grace.

My brother told me that she died with the same dignity and grace in which she lived her life.

And what could,

What more could any one of us ever ask for or want?

And I look at my relationship with my own daughter,

One of them anyway.

She's in her mid-twenties and we've had a little struggle for the last few years.

And I'm comfortable in my skin and knowing that as her mother I did the very very best that I could.

I don't really know a single parent in my world,

And you probably don't either,

That doesn't wish they had done it differently in some fashion or form.

We do the best that we can according to our spiritual condition in the time.

And I know that I did that with my own children,

My own two daughters.

But the oldest in particular harbors some resentment towards me.

And you know what?

Through all the spiritual growth that I've gone through in the past 30 years of my own journey.

I know that whatever she's going through isn't really my cross to bear.

There's nothing for me to absorb.

I've apologized for who I wasn't for her as her mom and maybe some things I did that she didn't like or that hurt her.

But right now she just can't hear that.

She's too busy dwelling in the pain or the suffering of her own to attach to some of those dramas that we all play out in our heads.

Which is so so unfortunate as I look back at my relationship with my own mother.

I just wish.

And I actually know in the future.

That my relationship with my daughter could be as special as my relationship with my own mother.

But honestly,

I do believe it will down the road.

And it's okay.

It's all good.

I'm so grateful for every moment.

I got to spend with my mother,

Especially this past year and a half before she died.

But I also encourage anyone listening that if you have some sort of unresolved issues with your own parents and they're still alive.

See if there's something that you can let go of.

Can you let go of your story about it?

Can you forgive her or your dad?

Because you know what?

Without forgiveness there can never be love.

So start there.

And I wish you all the very best.

I know sometimes it's hard to let go of some of the hurts and the traumas and the dramas and the things that people have done to hurt us.

But please let go of the suffering.

There's no reason to stay addicted to the suffering.

Or to the life you don't even like as a result of it.

You know?

Anyway,

That's all I have.

Goodbye mom.

Mimi.

May you rest in beautiful peace.

And live in grace out there in the quantum field.

Looking down on us.

As my angel on my left or right shoulder.

I know you're there.

And I wish you all the very best.

And we'll talk to you soon.

Thanks.

Reviews

Thank you.

Yes, you were very fortunate to have your mom for a long time. My mom was in her 60’s when she left me. I am almost 70 and talk to her almost ever day still. I learned memories are like stars, they last forever. Thank you for sharing ✨