A Tribute to a Lady

January 20, 2021

I said goodbye to a woman I love today.  I haven’t always loved her.  In fact, I hardly even knew her, at least not in the physical sense.  Yet, this woman has been nestled into the recesses of my heart since the beginning.  As a child, I remember desperately trying to form an image of the mysterious woman I had only heard spoken of briefly.  When the thought of her morphed into an identity, she was transparent and rather ethereal.  Through the eyes of an innocent, I was far too young to grasp the nuances of my connection to her.  Yet, I was grateful to this woman for the gift of thinking myself extraordinary.  Yes, extraordinary, by virtue of a life rarely traveled through the mind of a child.  

For a period after, maybe a decade, or two, this other-worldly, angelic woman’s image grew brittle and chipped around the edges.  In my mind, she faded into just another ordinary mortal.  Her, having lived a life unbeknownst to me. She, having made choices, where I was clearly not one of them.  With that perspective, my curiosity, at least outwardly, dulled for this woman.  When I had the energy to probe my heart for her, only sadness and disappointment surfaced, so I chose to color her numb to shield myself from emotions I did not welcome.  In contrast, my daily life was a rich tapestry of wonderful experiences.  I was immersed in the love and adoration of doting parents.  I enjoyed abundant friendships, did meaningful work, and had so much to enjoy and be thankful for without spending too much time thinking of her. 

Then came my third decade and “that lady” spontaneously bubbled up to the surface of my thoughts-much like I imagined her as a child, so lovely and radiant.  Proverbial, like a long-lost friend who couldn’t resist showering me with love in this life chapter.  What a chatterbox she became that decade.  She had a smile so breathtakingly familiar I couldn’t suppress my own, especially when she materialized hovering over my mom with such obvious appreciation of her.  My lady appeared to be gaining confidence with her presence because she began weaving her way into my thoughts through a series of life milestones over the years. 

Such was the case when I became a mother, and this woman’s image flared into technicolor at full volume.  Obviously, she was not content to sit on the sidelines of my subconsciousness anymore.  There was not a doubt in my mind that she was feeling as if she belonged.  She was someone’s mother, of that I was certain, and a fierce one at that.  My newly maternal mind raced with an endless landscape of possibilities about her.  Who is this spectral woman? Where is she today?  What is her story?  Now larger than life, she had morphed into someone regal and brave.  I admired her lioness insistence and courage in resurfacing over the years.  Fervently, I probed the recesses of my subconsciousness in my attempt to interpret the messages of this reoccurring apparition in my life.  My imagination ran wild. Was she a ruler of some magnitude? Was her life filled with heroism and thus she was spirited away to the far corners of the earth to protect her mission?   Was she of Divine descent? 

In my 40s, my lovely woman grew a little less lovely in her image, and far more warrior-like.  Upon daunting mountains her presence stood, her being urging me higher up virtual mountains with the passing years.  The landscape surrounding her grew more compelling with every climb. 

I tried mightily to tame my imagination and somewhat suppress that woman’s force by fully embracing my fast-paced life without distracting specters.  Time passed.  My children raised.  For the most part, my mystical warrior woman receded into her rightful place of dreams and hazy memory.  Although, admittedly, in rare quiet moments, she nudged me present with thoughts of her and increasingly louder whispers for me. 

Ah, the mind is so powerful with its ability to imagine – but the heart even more so in its desire to connect.  

During one such nudge nearly three years ago, I wrote a letter: “A letter to a Lady”.   I rewrote it a dozen, maybe more times.  Originally It was rather lengthy; I had so much to say.  Yet, when you have lived a life of such abundant blessings, the best there is to say is not to recap your wonderful life, but to offer the person who allowed such a simple “Thank you”. 

Months after writing, I finally mailed my painstakingly rewritten letter with over five decades of emotion packed into it.  And, waited.  As life would have it, that woman, my lady, was in a season of life where written words could no longer reach her.  Yet, by God’s grace, months later, my presence did.  When she smiled, time stood still with its force of familiarity, for it was a mirror image of my own.  Yes, it took me 56 years to find my biological mother, but find her I did. Reunited like familial animals in the wild, our raw, near primitive reunion will never be forgotten by our loved ones who bore witness. 

From then until now, the in-between for Rose and me was short and bittersweet, but forever engrained through the love of her forever family.   When I sadly whispered goodbye to my lifelong, ever-present woman from afar, I knew it was not forever.  Our farewell was only a chapter, a whisper in eternity. I pray Rose knows that the history that brought me into this world is inconsequential compared to the extraordinary life she enabled me to live and the breadth of love I have been able to experience. Upon her arrival to the heavens, I hope my amazing warrior woman learns, that by the power of God’s grace, she never left me.  Her presence has always been with me.  Her story of a love released, yet relentless, begging to be told.