No one wants to go home especially now after the holidays. The tree is dry and what looked festive now looks a little sad. The presents still in boxes are on the floor or in the office on the table without a space to call their own..yet. But the not wanting to go home has less to do with the lingering of Christmas and more to do with death. I keep seeing my mother’s wide surprised stare as they moved her into her new room at the Heart Hospital. Her mouth wide open her lips blue. Not even gasping for breath. I think despite the fact that the Doctor said she left when I touched her..I think she was gone in that moment or even the moment before the one I didn’t see. I stood beside her gurney and she was sitting straight up and I asked her like I did every few seconds since she came to live with me if she was OK. I can’t remember now if she answered me but I thought she did. But something happened. Her heart stopped or the tube in her lung moved but she was definitely on her way out. I saw all the doctors and nurses drain from the other rooms and spaces and come running even the emergency room doctor. She grabbed by hand and told me I was very brave. They called for morphine to make her comfortable and the blond haired doctor reponded to my question that she was “going to Jesus”. What is happening I cried and that was her response. So I clasped her cold hand which didn’t feel a lot different then her hand always felt small sharp boned and cold. And I stroked her hair and whispered that she was the love of my life. She is you know. No one loves you like a mother..a good mother I should amend. A good mother..the best. You are the love of my life and we are on the beach at Avila and the sun is warm and the sand is beneath our toes and the water is gently coming and going with the waves in and out and it licks our toes and life is good. And picture too your lovely home with the bright yellows and oranges and petals and stamins on the walls always radiating joy and reflecting everything that is good and right in the world. And if I had time I would have told her that she made my life whole again after I divorced. That I had been bumping around in my little house meditating, learning to teach dharma, and I was utterly lost and alone and she furnished that house one painting one chair one sofa at a time. And everyday that I returned home from school you sat in the chair by the door and smiled at me and made my heart light. I loved coming home to you. I loved coming home. But now home is hard. I haven’t made the mistake yet of thinking your are asleep in the other room or in the bathroom but I will. I almost think to call you from school to check on you and ask “Are You Ok”? But I haven’t made that mistake either.