searching

Rita said she’s almost ready for death. After the death of her son, she felt that being whole was of the past and every moment she could grasp, she hoarded the memories.

. . .

“I lived my life unsure of my value as a mother. For many selfish and unselfish actions and words; I carried intent to help guide this life in my heart and mind; always humbled by this astonishing life. Now, I would surrender to death, just to hold, smell, hear and see him for any amount of time granted to me.”

. . .

On the longest ride from the airport to Rita’s oasis, her words nest and root in my thoughts… “sometimes I hide behind my ugly”… “what does it feel like to lose oneself?”… “Is it better for her to live a shorter life so as not to live on with the loneliness?”…”what am I searching for?”…