Why My Mother Will Always Be My First Love

For twenty-five years, I have had the pleasure of being in love with the same woman. Despite her doing this crazy thing called dying in March of 2014, we have had an uninterrupted love affair that has consistently expanded as we have.

When she was still housed in a human body, the glow of genuine, pure, positive energy radiating from both of us was known to make bystanders ask, “are the two of you sisters?” That question was always followed by a laughter-filled reply of “No, I’m her mother! Isn’t it great?” Rhonda, my hazel-eyed ball of sunshine, was not only my mother, she was, and still is, my muse.

This woman was the queen of amazing creations, and she raised me to see myself as proof. She sculpted joy into my cells as I adored her from the womb, and once released into the world she kept me sheltered in her arms. She raised me as if I were an old friend that just needed to be reminded of how things worked here. She talked to me like I had sense, because she knew I did; and when my sense was forgotten from time to time she was my prompt, but fair, disciplinarian. After the switch, wooden spoon, or belt left my legs, and my sense returned, I was always quick to wrap around her in regret of having to make her get my attention that way. I knew my mother loved me, even when she had to whoop my butt.

As I grew into an adolescent, and began going through phase after phase, my mother was always a consistent safe space I could rest within. She never judged the blaring emo music, or heavy preteen angst. She just followed me down each rabbit hole, giving me room to figure out for myself what worked and what didn’t.

Simultaneously, she was evolving; and if I ever had a regret it would be that I was not mature enough to have asked her about what she was learning. Fortunately for me, my mother told me anyways! Even though I could not comprehend everything she shared just yet, I was excited we were growing up together and that what she was learning lit her up inside. While I was becoming a teenager, my mother was becoming a student of the law of attraction (LOA); and everything she learned became the foundation of everything I know to be true now.

As a young adult, my mother became by best friend. She had been long before then, but it was finally appropriate to see her that way and we took full advantage. We would have sleepovers and go out for drinks. We would go to LOA meet-up groups, and I would beam with pride as she would enlighten even the most senior members on how to clean up their vibrations.

By then I was a student of LOA myself and was a humble novice under my mother’s direction. We would talk about what we wanted and how great it would be to receive it, and when it finally manifested we were each other’s biggest fan. My mother loved to remind me that the universe recognized exactly who I was and wanted nothing more than to support me in my entirety. My life became a reflection of how deeply I absorbed that belief system.

When I was twenty-two my mother had a stroke, as her mother before her did; and a month later she transitioned into nonphysical. To say that it was a surreal experience, to hold the woman who held me my whole life as she passed away in front of my eyes, is far from an understatement; but it was a true testament to our closeness.

There is no one I would have ever wanted there with her in that last moment of consciousness other than me, and I wear the ache of that experience with honor. It is a privilege to have sent her home with the same love and certainty she welcomed me here with. My mother passed away with grace, dignity, and a relentless energy of gratitude, thanking my father and I profusely with the last breaths she had. She taught me that thankfulness is its own brand of sweetened love and she gave that love abundantly.

My artist. My soulmate. My best friend.

My mama, Rhonda Haugabook spent my whole life being my everything, and taught me through her example how to become my own. I am proud to say that while there are somedays where the ache of her physical absence is breathtaking; there are moments in every day where I feel her pure, positive, energy beaming at me and through me. We still take walks together, dance together, and celebrate together. The only difference is that physically I just get to represent for the both of us now. Rhonda Haugabook, queen of amazing creations, you taught me what love is, and the world will never be the same because of your example.