wendy’s 80th
it would’ve been my mom‘s 80th birthday today. i remember the shindig we had for her 60th. it was the party of the year and she was in her element. Wendy was the quintessential Leo. she was all about hosting parties, cooking elaborate meals and having crazy adventures.
less than seven months later, on the Ides of March, she left this world far too young. she wasn’t ready and she didn’t want to go. not yet. we honored her as best we could with a huge weekend campout celebration of music (lots of it), a nighttime flotilla of candlelit boats on the lake, a video about her life, speeches (lots of speeches) and, of course, more food than you can imagine.
it’s hard to believe she’s been gone almost 20 years. if she’d lived, she would have been so proud to watch her grandchildren become the beautiful adults they are. we would have all been spending the last six months preparing for an even bigger party than the last one, i’m sure. right now, i’d be greeting guests instead of walking alone through our apple orchard, thinking about her life. pretty much exactly the opposite experience. which, truth be told, is how i prefer to spend my birthdays - quiet. (my idea of a good time is reading a good book with my sweetheart and a cup of tea.)
a few years ago, i would have felt guilty for not throwing a posthumous party in her honor. but, as i walk the orchard conversing with these century-and-a-half old trees, i think she would be really proud that i’m doing what brings me joy in this moment. after all, that was pretty much how she lived her life. and that was one of the things everyone admired about her the most. she reminded us all to live fully in the moment. probably because she’d already had so many close encounters with death.
as fires rage all around and most folks are trying to adapt to the “new normal” of this pandemic, i think she would have been heart-broken at the state of the world. in some ways, i’m relieved she’s not here to witness this “great unraveling.” although i don’t really miss her much anymore, today as i was walking through the stretches of dry yarrow, mugwort and coyote mint, i found myself telling her i miss her. i had a wish that she could be here to walk with us through this strange portal of luminal mystery from all we’ve known into a world we can’t even begin to predict.
then, as i made my way back to the path, filled with peace and a deep knowing that this was the perfect way to celebrate her, i looked down to find an exquisite hawk wing feather lying right in front of me. and, in that moment, i knew she was reminding me that she is walking with us - just in a different form.
happy 80th birthday mom. i love you.
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