Alinah Azadeh:Mother to Mother

(from journal 8.2.2005)
I dreamt of my mum- she was cooking in the next room and i came in, in case she disappeared.She was in pink. I told her 'i love you..do you love me?' and hugged her. She was detached but said yesi i think. I said 'I miss you'..at that point she was in blue and just glided by, untouchable.
The she was at the stove again and turned on the gas flame, a high flame. I asked if she wanted us to set up a memorial fund in her name, and she just disappeared.
What was that saying ..'in the face of death, have no attachment or aversion'?- i guess its the only way to be free of this world,in the next world.
Also, she cant answer my questions anymore - i have to find my own answers. This feels so sad, and i miss her so much.

The second part of the dream i remember was in a house with a lot of people-the same people? Lots of them got gassed and died- by accident i think-but i survived along with a few others.I looked into the mirror to check i was alive, i wanted to live, to wake up and live.

Today is a beautiful sunny day and its Leo's birthday, my love. And Delia's head has grown a bit overnight!

(from journal 30.1.2005)
Your uncle Simon dreamt last week that Papar Jaan (my mum, your grandma) came to him to ask him what had happened on her death - what was the story? He told her , and she was apparently taken aback , but amused too...she was all in deep pink (the colour of protection), which is the colour i have started wearing every day, before i knew of this dream.

Also, i dreamt that i was searching for mums soul in the Valley of Death (how much more biblical can you get..!). A valley through which were passing all the souls of the people who died in the Tsunami. I went towards one who i thought was her. and as i did, the shadows of the souls, including hers, passed through my body-warm and moist. I was totally unafraid.

And finally, Leo (your papa) dreamt last week that he was negociating thee number of years he and I have left togethr in this life: 43 years, then it would seem as if it was over..but we would have a remaining 7 years wonderful years together- so 50 in all! That will mean i would live to be 86..and you, delia would be 50 when i die..and your dad 82. What will the world look like then?

'At the moment of death, abandon all thoughts of attachment or aversion' - Buddha

..maybe this why mum left us without us being present?

Now the rage has died down, and after my last counselling session and latihan, I am finding a way to be with the deep, deep sadness that has risen up over the death of my mother, and sits as a blue sapphire liquid in a delicate glass goblet in the centre of my chest. A lot of the time I take myself away from it,(with DO-ing) but I am finally, simply allowing it to BE and express itself. Quiet moments, late at night like this, give it space.

The Mother to Mother project, now that it is online and i am simply maintaining the garden rather than creating it, has given me a prickly gift: of realising that what I went through 21 months ago when I lost my mum just after Delia arrived, was a trauma. I havent wanted to use that word, i think because i associate it with being a victim, with my mother being a victim of the tsunami, and i refuse to think of her like that. She would never have used that word about herself, and it felt like a lack of respect for her to put her in that 'category'.

However it's meant that, now the shock has worn off and i can actually see that a lot of anger is rising in me, i have had no framework within which to deal wth the almost visceral pain of losing her. So i started psycho-synthesis counselling in an attempt to deal with the rage spilling into my every day life and becoming unhandleable now there is space for it to do so. I have felt like an angry teenager who does not want to grow up and be the good girl/wife/mother' she was always supposed to be, or to deal with it all so well and be congratulated on that time and time again. Sometimes i just want to be angry, upset, pissed off .. and that be ok. (mainly with me).

The drawing i made during the first session last week looked like this - a huge storm in the sea, a large gaping mouth (i called 'Roar') under the crest of the wave. It is hovering over and screaming at a female figure standing on a green clifftop in the left in the foreground. She is attached to a dead child floating on the right side of the page in the water by a long thin red thread. Beyond the raging tsunami, in the distance, is a calm, golden, unoccupied landscape.

When I react in anger, its like being in the eye of the storm - uncontrollable anger and chaos.

Remember to stand with your feet in the grass, you can talk to Roar.

The child in me feels dead, separate.

I won't go into what we talked about, i think that image says a lot.

After the session i wanted to sleep but was with Delia so i did couldn’t. We went for a walk with Raphaella and family to Seven Sisters, Cuckmere Haven. I was very wiped out, a migraine slowly brewing.
When we came finally to the beach, i looked up at the green and white cliffs and the sea and realised it was the setting of my drawing that morning. And also the place near where we scattered mum's ashes (Birling Gap). On arriving home, i got very ill-raging migraine and violent throwing up, shaking and groaning like an animal. Releasing the Roar I guess, and dehydration. Leo was away finishing his film, which made me feel even more enraged, luckily Raphaella looked after us....

The next day, the anger was less but still there. Leo sent me out of the house the next day after hearing me snap at delia- 'You're not that kind of mother-get out'. Thank god he did. I went straight to the Subud house and got support. Let go of a lot and will return every week for a special latihan to help tame the tiger in me....

That night I dreamt that it was the end of the world. I was in New York, in a room within a tower block that had been blown up like all the buildings around it, and we were falling through space in this room. A few people i knew were with me. Despite the terror of the situation, something in me knew i would survive this, that it wasn't the end.

(26th January 2005)
Dear Delia,
We are at 100 Springfield rd, Southborough, Tunbridge Wells, staying with your great nanny (my dad's mum) in the house where, (unbeknown to her when she moved in) her own mother was born and where she will most probably die.
Your uncle Simon (my brother) and I took you to the High Rocks Inn to book in the Tribute to your granmother Papar Jan, to celebrate her life and death on Saturday 19th March (her birthday and just before Nowrooz, the Persian new year and her favourite celebration).
You sat so calmly in the restaurant while we ate and talked..you are a very peaceful soul and seem to know when i need space. Dark platinum blonde hair, the longest legs and fingers, little nose and cupid lips. You hate traffic lights, howl whenver we stop at a set. You love music and movement and being smiled at...your range of focus is increasing fast, i wonder what you can see exactly?

Mums tribute:notes
Champagne and persian hors d'oeuvres
200 sunflowers
Fuchsia pink decor > candles, muslin, napkins
Rumi poems and photos of mum
Sofreh - ask delaram to prepare.
Sufi music
Zoroastrian symbols
Map of iran
Colours of iran

food:
whole cooked poached salmon, persian bread. spring onion, sabsi, paneer.
dates, walnuts, kookoo, pistachios, olives, gaz, shirini

notes on my speech:
- only this year , after delia, did i know what it took to bring me into the world, did she bless our marriage and see her first grandchild arrive.
-forgiveness
what's her legacy? what can be learnt from her life?
-speaking her mind, compassion, generosity, pure love
- inseparable > food, home and safety
- poilitical commitment- freedom, communication and integrity. love of her country
- pleasure in life to the full and ability to forgive ad move on, lightnes of being
-sensuality, dirty jokes..
- sharing her cultural traditions and history
- ability to relate to younger generations - eg iranian students, us.
- irrepressible. action, not just talk.

(Jan 21st, 2004)
Delia, your Papar jan, a pisces whose wish was to be cremated and have her ashes thrown into the sea near Eastbourne when she died, is still missing, presumed dead.

She came to your uncle Simon in a dream this week to ask him what happened, what the story of her death was? So he told her. She was taken aback a little, but also somewhat amused, and iis n good humour, a good space apparently. She was all in deep pink. Funny because I bought loads of pink clothing last weekend (and i never normally wear pink) and have been wearing it everyday.
Bless Papar jans soul, may she be guided to her ultimate resting place. I will miss her so much and the times we would hae spent together, the three of us.But i know she is with you and I in spirit always..
Delia, i call you boo-boo at the moment , can't help it. 7 week old golden angel, becoming more and more alert every day...and starting to smile back at us..especially in the mornings, when you lie naked on the lambskin on our bed (where you sleep at night, sometimes between us, sometimes to one side) and i give you a gentle massage, we smile and coo and you wave your head back and forth like Stevie Wonder. Wondering at the world opening up to you.And i bounce you on the pilates ball to calm you when you cry, and you put your golden haired head on my chest, your soft delicate body in my hands, me , your privileged guardian.
The most beautiful, delicate features, a pixie nose, dark blue eyes and cupid lips..a long body amd the most elegant, long fingers..will you be an artist? you have such a calm, mellow nature, you are all potential.

Such a gift at such an intense and sad time..grief balanced by joy , balanced by grief again.

Stuart Deeks, our homeopath,said that Mums energy is transformed through death like rain into a cloud. I saw this very image the next day as Maria, you and I climbed over the hill in Brighton towards the sea. He says he saw her 'in me' and itis true i have felt her energy very close to me.
If only she were here, cooking...I only have the empty rice cooker she left with me till her next visit. I will honour her by perfecting the favourite dishes she used to make (she made them all in the week before you arrived, some are still in the freezer, ready for this time)..fesinjan, gormeh sabsi, galieh mahi,kookoo sabsi. She was the greatest cook.

(jan 16th, 2005)
When I miss mum, i will make 'katchi', which she made for me in the early mornings before, during and after your birth in the kitchen at Maygrove rd. It's persian and made of melted butter, ground rice,saffron and honey. Comfort and safety.The loss of mum is the loss of the most solid emotional supprt I ever had, of the most extraordinary mother, friend and protector. Thankyou mum for giving me the gift of life and for helpng me give that gift to Delia, for nurturing me before during and after her birth. She is so exquisite and i know will carry many of your qualities.

(re-reading this is strange as it's so suffused with the euphoria of becoming a mother, more than the sobering feeling i imagine one gets through grief without anything else to soften it)

(Jan 10th 2005)
Have been finding it hard to find space to write about what has been happening.But i must record this-last night Mum was in my dream.A younger version of herself with jet black hair, less aged -she was simpy being with us,her beautiful, comforting self. I knew she was dead but she was visible as a living presence.
This weekend we went to visit Reg (her boyfriend of 5 years who was with her in Phuket and survived-they adored each other).Leo, delia, farid, fariba, massoud , simon and I.It was actually lovely to see him but so, so sad that she was not there...We agreed to wait to celebrate her life, not mourn her death.
The more we talk about it,the clearer it is there were signs -the dream she told us about 3 months ago that she experienced a tidal wave coming to take her away on a beautiful beach...with the comment 'what an amazing way to die'. and simon (your uncles) dream soon after hers of he and I on a beach waving her goodbye as she got taken by the sea.Her phone calls to all of us on christmas day, the day before she died. Simon missed her first call and prayed desperately for her to call back in case he never saw her again, he thought he was being irrational at the time...she did call back thank god.
I wish i had told her in that phone call how much i loved her-but i know too she knew and we had just spent so much beautiful close time together before she died, preparing for your arrival, during and just after your birth. Perfecting our relationship. I have landmark to thank for that.

(Jan 4th 2005)
Delia,
Your beloved granmother, Papar Jan, was swept away by the by the great tsunami in south east asia > phuket island on 26th december 2004, last week. I am numb. What a huge loss-she adored you so much and had waited for your arrival for many years .She will always be with you my love.

Rumi says:
Are you jealous of the oceans generosity?
why would you refuse to give
this joy to anyone?
Fish don't hold the sacred liquid in cups!
they swim in the huge fluid freedom

When the wave came, it took the sea out first and left the fish on the sand. Your Papar Jan, not realising what was going to happen, rushed to pick up the fish and put them back in the sea. Rescuing to the last. Rest in peace.