Mama & the Therapist

Mama’s last months grew increasingly darker. Fiercely angry that she had not yet died, she became more and more sullen, resentful, and silent…and then this happened on a desolate night in her hospital room.


It was both wounding and beautiful to be with her in the last five days of her life. After she passed away, I kept replaying the most traumatic moments over and over in my head. This lasted for weeks until she came to me in a dream and said, “Retta–Are you kidding me?! All those good times and laughs we had over the years, and you’re just remembering that little slice of time? You’re focusing on THAT and how I was THEN? Come on now.”

As usual, she knocked me back into a better perspective.