Remembering Mom

What if grief could be your greatest teacher? Join me as I honor my mom's memory and explore the unexpected gifts that grief has bestowed upon my life. In a heartfelt episode, I read a special segment from my book, The Places When There Are Spaces, where I reflect on the chapter "The Gifts in Grief." Through vivid recollections of the autumn of 2018, I share how my mother's passion for dance continues to inspire me, and ponder the moments we might have shared together. From imagining her first tap class to talking about my new apartment in New York City, her presence is felt in every step I take.

As I brace for the seventh anniversary of her passing, I find solace in the strength and resilience I've uncovered through loss. I encourage listeners who have experienced similar journeys to seek the hidden lessons and growth that can emerge from grief. With immense gratitude, I celebrate the deepened bond with my dad and the everlasting love of a mother that remains a guiding force in my life. Join me as I light her mosaic candle and raise a glass to her enduring presence, cherishing each moment and embracing her magic that continues to illuminate my path.

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Transcript

Speaker 1: 0:23

Hey there, today is a special episode where I just wanted to honor my mom, who, seven years ago, left this world for a better world, one that she can shine brightly in and I have no doubt, because I feel her magic every day inside me. So this one's for you, mom, and I wrote a chapter in my book the Places when there Are Spaces called the Gifts in Grief, and I'm not going to read the whole thing, but I'm going to read just a little segment of it, which talks about how I was feeling in 2018. I dedicated this book to Mom and simply said I dedicated this book to mom and simply said to mom, who taught me what it means to dance, and that she did quite literally and also metaphorically this one's for you, mom. So I'm going to read this little section Fall 2018. Fall would never feel the same. If I could, I would call her to tell her about our new New York City apartment. I'd share some new music or a video of a step I made up. I imagine what fall might have been like for her if things had worked out. I can visualize her leaving her new house dance bag slung over her shoulder as she walked into town to teach her first tap class. Weird to think how close those women came to experiencing the immense joy she would have brought into their lives. I wonder. I wonder if she'd take the time to stop and look at the canal as she crossed it, or if she'd wait until she was on her way back, feeling energized from sharing what she loves with her students. Tiny and fierce, she'd strut across that bridge. She'd get there early to make sure everything was set up. No one would ever suspect that she was the least bit nervous, and the moment she put on her tap shoes she was home.

Speaker 1: 2:36

I am eternally grateful to have shared this passion for dance with Mom. When we danced together, time slipped away, except for the rhythm that we kept in our feet. The other day, when I put my tap shoes on, I thought about how it just doesn't feel the same without her. Sometimes, tap dancing just makes me sad.

Speaker 1: 3:05

In November 2024, it'll be seven years since I lost my mother 3,959,200 minutes, and though I miss her dearly, I know that she is all around me in everything I do and I have a massive amount of gratitude for the gifts that have come from the grief, as counterintuitive as it seems. I encourage you if you've suffered loss of any kind, to look for those gifts, to look for the lessons, to look for the growth, to look for what has been shown to you through this passage in your life. I am grateful to have been shown that I am resilient and strong even in the darkest of moments. I am grateful, so grateful, to have grown a deeper relationship with my dad, far beyond what I might ever have imagined, and I'm grateful to have known the absolute love of a mother which remains now even more strongly than it did when she was mortal, and I feel her love inside me today, forever and a day.

Speaker 1: 4:21

I raise a glass of wine to you, mom. I've lit your mosaic candle. I've lit your mosaic candle. You know I'm with you, just as you are with me always. Much love, forever and a day. I'm Lisa Hopkins. Thanks so much for listening. Stay safe and healthy, everyone, and remember to live in the moment.