Empty Arms (standard:Inspirational stories, 308 words)
Author: Beck Fenton	Added: Jul 31 2004	Views/Reads: 3686/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
My daughter died August 19, 2003 of Lupus. She suffered for six years. I will remember forever.

For many years I was called Her Mother. I had other names as I grew, but
after her birth I became Her Mother. I named her Laughing Eyes. She was 
a part of me and I walked with her on her journey because it was mine 
also. We resembled each other in looks and temperament, so the path had 
times of strife. Pebbles became stones, that turned into boulders. We 
often had to separate to go around obstacles, but we always found our 
place together again. 

Her Mother was not just my name, but became a way of living. My name
reflected me to everyone and I changed to make the reflection shine. I 
let Her Mother choose the way for us. There was a knowledge that was 
given to me at the time of naming, handed down from ancestors, 
whispered to me by Elders. It kept us safe, this inner knowing. Safe 
for many years. 

Then came the disease that slowly claimed her life. This was a time that
brought us back to the beginning. My daughter fought bravely, but in a 
hand of years she left. Left me alone, and I returned my name. Her 
Mother was a part of me, but I could no longer bear the name. 

It will be a full year before I receive a new name. I am called Weeping
Woman now. I feel empty as I realize that part of me is no more. I have 
a gaping hole that can not be filled, and I must mourn the loss of my 
daughter, Laughing Warrior . I would like to become a warrior like my 
daughter, but I am a frail spider-web compared to her courage. I am 
only now beginning to look ahead. Looking to see where my lonely path 
leads: I know it's where my new name waits. 


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