There are days that I would go back to. One of them is the day before Groundhog Day. In 1993, on February 1st, I was able to talk to my mother on her death bed. Surprisingly, she was alert in the morning and was able to pay the private school tuition for the month. I went to school that morning around 7am and my mother asked me to leave the front door open. I would want to go back to that day and experience a presence of a woman who arranged things till the end at around 9 am. I would have asked her about heaven. I would have made her breakfast and have a secret mother/daughter moment. She knew her time was short. I knew she was about to die a couple months before. I would say that my mother was somewhat of a mystic.
I will say that my mother would be pleased with my decision to become a sister. She, a Baptist, was fascinated by Mother Teresa.
My mother would tell me that I have been graced with perseverance especially growing up in a dysfunctional world.
She would have been right.