Everything is beautiful
And she is so beautiful
She is so young and old
I look at her and I see the beauty
Of the light of music
The voices talking somewhere in the house
Late spring and you’re drifting off to sleep
With your teeth in your mouth
You are here with me
You are here with me
You have been here and you are everything

“You Are The Everything”
Green
R.E.M.

I read once that Michael Stipe wrote this song for his grandmother. If that is true, it totally makes sense. When I first heard this song my own grandmother sprang instantly to mind.

Mother’s Day is bittersweet in general for me, but it is particularly so this year because it comes on the heels of the anniversary of Grandma’s death. Even after nine years, there is a raw wound that her death has left on my soul. True, the years have allowed some scar tissue to heal the hole. But as with real scars, there are days when it gets achy or itchy and I am reminded of the original injury.

Not everyone has the luxury of a close relationship with their grandparents. I know through personal experience that close relationships with parents can be challenging, much less extended family. I recognize that and use it as a plumb line to remind myself that I was lucky enough to have her in my life for 31 years. Through all my storms in life, Grandma was there to be my steady light, guiding me calmly and gently to the safety of shore. She was my anchor, my rock, my teacher, my parent, my friend. She influenced me in ways that even now I am amazed to realize. She shaped me into the woman I am today.

Sometimes faith is just knowing that there is someone, anyone in this world who loves you like crazy. A gift of the spirit, there are people in our lives who are angels in disguise. By their very presence, they teach us about life, love, beauty, truth, and spirituality. I thank Grandma for many of the gifts she gave me over the years, but the greatest gifts were an appreciation of music and the ability to question. By allowing me to ask the questions that arose from my spiritual travels, she gave me the chance to really understand what has meaning for me. It would have been easier to just teach me what she had learned, but she showed me that some things are better when we figure them out for ourselves. My own faith and belief system has grown because of my ability to ask the questions of truth and creation, rather than just trust that what was taught to me was true.

Perhaps the greatest lesson is that no matter where we go, or what separates us from those we love, they are never truly far from us. Not really. What we have learned and the memories we made are always with us, and we can carry everyone in our lives wherever we go. This can be both good and bad, because sometimes we choose to hang on to hurts rather than laughter and healing. But every interaction, every exchange with another has the potential to change us in many ways and bring us closer to That Which Is. When we value the lesson, and remember the teacher, we keep them alive eternally within us.

As I remember Grandma, I remember the light and beauty. The gifts of music and the way that she was my world for so many years. Despite time and distance and passages to places unknown, she is here with me. She is always here, because I am able to remember. Think of people in your own life whom you may have lost. What part of them is still alive through you? What wisdom can you share with the world to keep their memory alive and honor them? They are here with you. And now you are their everything.

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