Beatrice Bates (November 19, 1935 – September 27, 2019)

On this night, two years ago, I had the privilege of holding vigil and – holding my mother – in her hospital bed – as she transitioned shortly after midnight. She is remembered – and missed – every day… Formidable, fierce, loving, complicated, profane and hilarious… she insisted you love her in all her flawed humanity – and she would love you right back in yours.

And so I did…

It’s a mysterious thing – profound loss…

While the loss itself brings grief – it can also bring gratitude. And, in time, if you are fortunate, “the grief” and “the gratitude” together begin a dance that keeps the person you’ve lost very present… in some ways – more present than ever – because we can see them without the noise of our busy lives getting in the way, without the heartbreak of illness, without the burden of needs met or not met, without our grievances. We can see their essential self. We can access – what remains.

Of course there are elements of profound sadness and absence on this day – but also – miraculously – gratitude for the grace with which my family carried it… and gratitude that.. in the end… this relationship gave me some of life’s greatest lessons… Lessons in complicated love… which is the most authentic kind of love.

Love layered with the pain of living… and the mistakes we make…

Love layered with regret… and the treasons and betrayals that come with truly knowing someone…

And hopefully – if we are fortunate – if we are willing – atonement and acceptance and forgiveness… and then back to love. Always back to love. And joy.

Today is – all of that – and I wouldn’t have it any other way. There would be no me – without her.

Thank you my friends for witnessing this day with me.