The tip of my tongue is inflamed. Words dance allusively on it as I struggle to verbalize my emotions. Something changed in me on March 6th, 2013. I was on a precipice of fear, loss, and humility. I teetered on it, humbly swiveling to feel what purpose it all might have. I warily stepped back a few feet only to find that the ground beneath me had disintegrated and I was plunging down.
My mom’s spirit wrapped around me, held me and saved me from impending darkness. Again something invigorated me–an understanding of some deeper purpose–without being able to consciously or tangibly grasp it.
I have mythicized my Mom. (Is that a word? I’m making it a word.) Turned her into a siren that beseeches me, releasing an inner power in me that I have meekly refused to accept.
I hear her song… I see her eyes burning a jade green, flickering with oranges and yellows. She gazes at me, calls to me, waking me up. She asks me to yield a purpose I’m unfamiliar with. I must be strong and answer her plea.
I haven’t figured out exactly what life’s grander purpose may be. I know love is a central part of it, though. I am also starting the understand that one’s own learned purpose is something all on its own, equally exquisite and lovely.