This is the count down. I hate thinking that thought, but my mom will be gone in one to two weeks. There are things experienced before death that we as mortals will never understand until our time to cross comes up. I keep this thought in my head: 'this is not about me, it is about Mom.' She sleeps all the time, due to morphine and the preperation to cross. That is what I call that moment. The crossing or passing. I just can't believe something as wonderous as life just ends. The essences of spirit and soul snuffed out. I can't see it happening when we are so individual and unique. I know there are those out there that do not feel there is a creator or higher power. I feel for you. I am not saying you will go to hell or be without spirit and soul. Those are not my place. I feel for you, because I wonder how can you feel special and unique? How can you look at yourself and say I was created because I was needed. You see our creator needs us as much as we need him. Why would he create us if he didn't? I don't have all the answers just my interpretation and understanding. I think when it comes down to it that is what this thing called life and faith is about. Having that personal and special relationship with our Higher Power, our creator. I didn't write this to change anyone's faith, beliefs or minds. I am writing this because I am seeing something that is both sad and wonderous in my mother. The transition to the other side. How the mortal slowly lets go of the material world and gets to experience another wonderous being. I am kind of jealous. No more pain or doubt. Just the wonderful warm amber glow of love. The full circle of understanding. Plus she gets to be with loved ones I miss dearly. I am going to close with food for thought. Those that pass get to see the things we were hoping to be hid till eternity. The things of us that are not so pretty. Makes me glad I cleaned up and I try to do the right thing. Mom when you read these words I write, know that I have loved you through all the good and bad. We did the best we could with what we had. Tell Granny I still want that painted horse with the fancy saddle. She will know what I mean. Tell Trish, I can't wait till we dance with each other again! I hope you visit me every now and then so I feel you all around. Beautiful.

Peace out and in all that is right-good!