Heart . Ache

I am cracked open.

I know the fissure was always there but covered by time, life, busyness, relationships.

Just like a wound whose scab has been knocked off, it hurts. Deeply. And I am back there - a younger me. Hurt, lost, uncertain.

The death of a mother kangaroo leaving her young joey behind has cracked me open.

I ache for the mother who must have known that she was dying. Who knew, as she and her little one sniffed each other for the longest time, nose to nose: that she was not going to be around long. That she was not going to be there to protect and nurture her little girl. 

I ache for the joey, a girl. I have called her Luna as this huge change in her life happened during the full moon. Such a delicate little creature, she has stayed close to her dead mother’s side; occasionally nuzzling her, licking her mouth, lying beside her. Is she willing her mother to wake? Does she know that her mother will never wake again?

I have heard Luna call out. What is she saying? In her place I have called for my mother, knowing that she will never come.

Last night was the first night that Luna was alone, alone with her dead mother’s body. I couldn’t sleep. A fierce storm blew in; rain, thunder and lightning. Poor little thing. 

I ache for Luna and I ache for my own loss, still fresh and visceral as if it were just yesterday. Though I am almost my mother’s age when she died, I feel as young as that joey - heart-struck, lost, uncertain.