Zefa, Jo Harris, My Mommy

Some say it's unnatural for a mother to lose a child. A child is lost in so many ways, into the world, drugs, radical politics, clubbing, religious sects, whoring. What is hard for me to cope with is the have to embedded in dying. There is no choice, no coming backs. It's an obligation external to our will.

Right now I am in distress for other reasons. The stuff we need to do. Emily Dickinson tells you about it better than I can. Please no flowers or phone calls.
Mommy hated cut flowers. I'll post when the mass will be, here in Santa Monica. Maybe I'll go to Twitter later on. Now I have to rest a little.

1078

The Bustle in a House                                   O Ir-e-Vir em uma Casa
The Morning after Death                               A Manhã após a Morte
Is solemnest of industries                              É atividade a mais solene
Enacted upon Earth --                                  Executada na Terra --

The Sweeping up the Heart                          Varrer o Coração
And putting Love away                                 Armazenar o Amor
We shall not want to use again                     Que voltaremos a usar
Until Eternity.                                            Só na Eternidade".
   
Emily Dickinson 


Mommy, in her best allumeuse smile, at 81 years of age.

Comments

[Freaky Deaky]

Sorry to hear about your mom. My thoughts are with you.

[tina oiticica harris]

I know there are no words to say at the face of Death. Thank you very much, Freaky Deaky. You've kept track of Mommy's journey for the longest time. Take care of your mother when the time comes.
Thanks again.