In an act of empowered grief, my amazing, strong, and courageous mother has cut off all of her hair. It is shocking and it is beautiful. SHE is beautiful. This is her way of wearing her grief right out in the open. I was proud to stand by her side and witness this transformation. To me, she represents the truest form of a Wild Woman- embracing the light and dark that lives within each one of us. I stand humbled. I stand in awe.
This is a love story. It may not look like it from the outside, but from the heart of it, it is impossible not to see. My mom and dad have been happily married 23 years. 4 years ago they sold their home and most of their belongings and have been traveling across the country and blogging as “Happily Homeless”. 2 weeks ago my dad was diagnosed as terminal with cancer. We suspect he only has another week or 2 to live. I sit here now, writing to you as my dad wakes this morning not knowing if he will see tomorrow. 
The feeling that resides in my body right now is almost indescribable. I suppose it started to become known to me a few days ago. This eerie sense of peace is gently working into my soul. It seemed odd given my current residence in grief, USA. It has been coming to me in pieces. I have been becoming more and more aware of my “role” in this process. Everything in my life- my yoga teacher training, my doula training, my maternal instincts (even though I don’t have children), meeting my husband, my extended family- all of it, coming together to prepare me for this moment in my life- the realization that the entire universe has been conspiring from day 1. And it goes even beyond this.
From the moment of his diagnosis, my family has been documenting each precious moment- through Facebook, blogs, photos & video. The outpouring of love in support of my dad and our family is having a snowball like effect. Friends, family and people we have never even met have been sharing our story. It may just be in our little world but it almost seems as if a phenomenon has been taking place. It started out with words of comfort and prayers. It evolved into people donating funds to help us cover unforeseen expenses. It has cascaded into stories being shared about how my dad has touched the lives of so many. Strangers who have seen “Happily Homeless” on the road have become avid followers of day to day updates. People have been flying in from across the country just to have a few more moments with my dad. My auntie sent a support package the other day. In it were magical things- things that represent the love spilling out of our hearts, things that represent our grief. Each item carefully wrapped in black paper but when opened burst with color. That box was a metaphor for everything that is happening. It had us wondering what is still to come? There is magic within our grief.
Our family has grown exponentially in these last 2 weeks. Strangers no longer exist. Everyone knows my dad’s name. They know our story. Our tears fall like rain soaking through anything they touch. But the compassion, kindness and beauty that surrounds us is like nothing I have ever seen before.
Like I said, this is a love story.
MoonStruck 