Transcription
When I was a child, my mother died. Seeing her beautiful face in the open casket and and kissing her red lips to say goodbye, left a haunting memory, a deep longing, a terrible fear of abandonment. I would follow my father everywhere, reminding him that if he ever died, I wanted to be buried with him. I became fascinated with cemeteries. I was not afraid of death because I knew this was the only way I could be with my mother again.
As life went on, I lost many people that I loved dearly and came to look at death as a kind of doorway to eternal life. Even when my lovers left me, I saw it as a kind of death. When they hurt me, I would have a ritualistic burial for them. I would bury my fear of abandonment before it could overtake me. I found souls visiting other people's graves, trying to connect to the souls of all the lost ones.
I wanted to reassure them that they were not alone. None of us are. We are all married to God. That's what Sister Theresa used to always say to me. I am the bride of Christ.
I am the bride of love. This sounded so romantic to me. I imagined I could tell her all my deepest secrets.