And the songwriter wrote . . .

“Someday we’ll all be gone but lullabies go on and on. They never die. That’s how you and I will be,” from the tune Lullaby by Bille Joel.

Dear readers – Yesterday, my beautiful and talented mother – Doris Faye Shirley Walker – left her physical body and this earthly life. She was 84 years old.

Her last waking moments were full of love, joy, family, friends, and faith. She was bathed in the laughter of great grand children and anointed in accordance with her spiritual traditions. Her final breaths were taken in the company of her two children and their spouses.

It was her belief that upon her death she would be reunited with my late father, her beloved husband of 63 years, Henry Field Walker, who died in February of 2013. She loved him every day of their marriage and pined for him every day after his death.

There’s a link below to her story, which I wrote for her birthday in March, 2013. It would prove to be her last birthday.

I would be greatly honored to have you read or reread the post. (But if you have comments, please leave them here so I can find them more easily). The post starts out talking about the light of spring and some trucking stuff, but is followed by a beautiful account of her essence.

I ask that you remember me and my family at this incredibly difficult and powerful time.

Namaste’

Here’s that link, thanks. http://thetruckingyogi.com/TYBlog/?p=70

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4 Replies to “And the songwriter wrote . . .”

  1. Dear Trucking Yogi:
    Just re-read your Spring article on your mom. She sounds like a marvelous spitfire. I’m so sorry she is no longer here and you won’t be able to hug her and talk about stuff. But she is still with you. Find your still point and reach out to her. She’ll be there. Don’t doubt what you feel and hear. You’re not making it up.

    I’ve found that putting things that remind me of a special someone who has passed on my altar re-mind me of them and help me keep in touch. Is it possible to set up a temporary altar to her on the dashboard of your truck?

    Lots of love and hugs and healing energy,
    Chrissy

    1. Thanks, Chrissy. The process of sorting out pictures for her funeral allowed me the opportunity to feel close. Now, as I go more deeply through the sorting process, I find more and more. The truck, home, my mind – the altars are taking shape, already. Thank you for your support. Namaste’

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