Mes Amours,
Where to start? So much I want to accomplish with those letters! I want those letters to uplift you in your dark times, I want them to carry all the love I have for you, if that’s even possible, I want to share parts of me and my life with you, I want you to be able to find comfort, love and guidance in them. Where shall I start… Shall I start with my childhood, the start of my travels, when I got rescued by firemen on a roof or arrested in an airport, or when I met your father... I guess there's no right or wrong way for me to start those letters... Let me try again:
I love you.
There. That’s a much better start than my wanderings.
I guess I'll just jump right in...with that fateful night and your sudden arrival my Heart, and what it ensues. How change and death can and will come for us all.
Let's start with the end to learn the in between.
Memento Mori...or welcome to your first taste of Stoicism.
“Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now, take what’s left and live it properly. What doesn’t transmit light creates its own darkness.”
Marcus Aurelius
Or more precisely your first taste in ours letters, as you have most likely grown in its philosophy and can quote Marcus Aurelius by heart because of how many times I've serenaded you with his wisdom.
Memento Mori. Remember you must die. I am not trying to be a downer here, I am an optimist, I see the positive in all situation, or try to, yet, I never forget death. Memento Mori was an ancient practice of reflection on mortality used by the Stoics, but not only, you can find it in Buddhism or Sufism and can trace it back all the way to ancient Egypt.
“Let us prepare our minds as if we’d come to the very end of life. Let us postpone nothing. Let us balance life’s books each day. … The one who puts the finishing touches on their life each day is never short of time.”
Seneca
Death should not mean life is pointless but rather make it more meaningful. Being reminded of your own mortality put everything into perspective, it makes you see what is important and what is not, it helps live more fully, the inevitability of death makes you more alive. To be clear, I don't mean partying your days away as if there was no tomorrow. But living in a way that will leave you no regret if you were to depart this world suddenly. The stoic used death as a meaningful way to make their days on earth matter, by infusing in them purpose and gratitude.
“You may leave this life at any moment: have this possibility in your mind in all that you do or say or think.”
Marcus Aurelius
Your birth my Heart was my big Memento Mori. One of the biggest lesson of my life from which I draw infinite beautiful threads of light. I hope you never ever ever feel any kind of guilt, for you are the brightest gift your dad and I could dream of. Since day one, you warm our lives with your love and infinite smiles.
I’ve always been keeping my own mortality in mind. I would visualize myself at the end of my life, an old woman sitting on a chair in her little house by the sea, white long hair flying free in the salty breeze, lost in thought and looking back, what would I want to see? What would I remember? What would matter? It helped me make some of the biggest decision in my life, certainly helped me muster the courage to leave everything I had known behind, to travel the world on my own. Yet, your birth was something else. I remember everything. How just the weekend before I was walking all over Copenhagen with your Zia Chiara, happy, light, alive, oblivious. How I put you to bed that night my Light, not knowing it was the last time I would do so as a mother of one. Not knowing you would wake up without me. Not knowing I would not see you for far too long. Not knowing I would not sing you to sleep, nor carry you in my arms for what feels like an eternity... Everything changed. From one moment to the other, from sunset to sunrise, our whole world spun and turned upside down. We almost lose you, my Heart, my precious love, those minutes before you finally took your first breath still haunt me. In what felt like a blink, I went from healthy, happy and full of life, to the brink of death. Not able to walk, move or even breathe. Things I always took for granted were taken away from me, not only my health and sanity, things as trivial as going to the toilet, taking a shower on my own, brushing my teeth, drinking water, standing up...
“You want to live – but do you know how to live? You are scared of dying – and, tell me, is the kind of life you lead really any different from being dead?”
Seneca
You always think it'll never happen to you or someone you love. That was my reminder that death come for us all uninvited, and I should be more grateful for all the things I have in my life, which can be taken away at any moment. It also helped me ponder the way I was living, as if there were many tomorrows, always holding on for something to come. While in the ICU, laying on my bed, plugged to too many machines to count, I remember a conversation I had with one of my angel Nurse one evening. She had just brushed my teeth and tucked me up for the night. I was in shock about how everything went so fast and surely not making a lot of sense. How did I end up here? We talked about life unpredictability, how we take the little things for granted and hold onto some moments for an hypothetical tomorrow. I remember rambling about my creams. I love creams and oils, when I treat myself to my favorite, the one that is a bit more fancy, I tended to not use it or very sparsely, to save it for later. What later? I know it sounds like a very silly example, it was my equivalent of keeping that expensive bottle of champagne for a special occasion, or buying this pretty scented candle and never lighting it. Yes, sometimes the anticipation is exquisite, if not better than the real thing, but in the same time, wouldn't you rather feel the smoothness on your face, the bubbles in your throat, or the smell envelop you before it is too late? That day, I swore to my nurse that I will never take anything for granted ever again, and that if I was lucky enough to get better, I would treat myself to my favorite cream, every night, without delay. I know it sounds extremely trivial and maybe superficial, but I hope you see where I am going with it: savor your life, enjoy the joys of being alive, now.
“It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it.”
Seneca
The impermanence of life and the impending of death is not something to be anxious about. The purpose of reflecting on them daily is not to rush you through life and its moments, but to slow down, to exist in them. I personally think, it can also feel reassuring. I know it is to me. I am reminded of how precious all I have is, how grateful I should be, and when going through a hard time, how that too shall pass.
That too shall pass. That was one of the mantra I repeat to myself while in the hospital. When I was suffering, that too shall pass. When I was in a pain that felt endless, that too shall pass. When I was missing you so much it felt like my heart had been ripped out, that too shall pass. That mantra got me through it all.
I was fortunate, I got out of the hospital. I walk, I move, I brush my teeth, I drink plenty, I take showers on my own, I sing you both to sleep, I carry you in my arms and will continue to do so as long as life will let me, and I'll cherish every little tiny bit of it.
“It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.”
Marcus Aurelius
So mes Amours, memento mori, and live fully, mindfully and purposefully, with love and gratitude always.
I love you longer than forever,
Maman.
P.S: For you who do not know my story, you’re welcome to read my testimony.
P.P.S: Why this illustration? I love art, and will use my favorite paintings to illustrate the sentiment of my writings. Hope you’ll enjoy them as much as I do.
How beautiful and brave, Morgane. And what a gift to your children.