just like papa bear and mama bear, mom’s porridge was always too hot or too cold – if you replace the word “porridge” with the word “everything.” owing to causes both psychic and physical, i knew she could never be comfortable; but the porridge was always to blame for this condition, never her. down deep, of course, mom was aware that it was her thermostat which couldn’t maintain an acceptable climate.
i did not really want to share my favorite blanket with mom. begrudging generosity was the best i could manage when attempting to solve the impossible – an expectation which she seemed to have of me, despite my clear inability to find my keys. her apartment was so cold, she said. i would try not to roll my eyes when she was actually looking right at me.
when mom told me how wonderful the mohair blanket was, i didn’t show the pleasure it gave me to hear her admit that i had found a solution for her. featherlight and so very, very warm, those miraculous mohair goats were born to keep her fragile bones warm without too much weight.
the blanket was in the trunk of my car, not on her bed, when she died; nonetheless, it was one thing i swore i could not use again. too much her in it, i thought. best just to let it go. today was going to be the day. i learned differently, however.
i wish it had been me, keeping her warm, a cozy shoulder, a comforting cuddle. but i sent my blanket instead. it was four months, today, that our last chance to cuddle in this life came and went, and as i held our blanket i felt you there again, and i was happy to feel like crying.
what is beautiful remains 
Cousin Brenna, what a beautiful first post, and full of wonderful truths. Thank you so so much for sharing with us. Wonderful cherishables, these stories. LOVE Sandy
Lovely sad words. As your friend, I feel fortunate that you have begun, ‘What is beautiful remains’……………I am blowing a kiss to you and Barbara!
What a lovely post. We all do what we can. Grieve how we must. It would have been my sisters 48th birthday today. She has been gone 30 years now and I still grieve,wish, and cry sometimes. Live is such a journey isn’t it?
k
kath – sorry for my delay in replying, girl! still figuring out how to check comments, etc.
yes, a journey. and once we have lost someone whose hand held ours while we walked, the landscape changes. i am so touched by your words – grieve, wish, cry. with all my heart! xo brenna
Brenna,
Your words are beautiful. My eyes filled with tears as I read this post. I have been spending so much time with my mom this summer…..cooking for her, taking her to buy groceries, taking her to the Dr, helping her with medications, etc. I should hug her and kiss her cheek before I leave each day but I haven’t done so. She was never an outwardly affectionate person. I should change that now while I still have the opportunity to do so.
Thank you…..xoAngela
it is so important to do the things that are important to YOU right now. each little action that gives you comfort, also gives you strength. sending you my love, hon. xo brenna
You can still talk to her. I do.