Hello, dear ones
Today, I’m opening my heart to share a deeply personal experience that continues to shape my journey—both in life and through Pachamama. As some of you may already know, Pachamama was born from the profound loss of my beloved mother, a loss that forever changed the way I understand grief, love, and the sacred transitions between life and death.
My Ritual with My Mom
My mom and I lived far apart—me in West Palm Beach, her in Argentina—but our bond remained strong through the rituals we created over the years. Every Sunday at 8 p.m., without fail, one of us would call the other. We would chat for over an hour, sharing the details of our lives, our worries, and our joys. It was our special time, a constant in our otherwise distant lives.
A few months before my mom passed away, she visited me here in the U.S. I was about to begin a year-long workshop called "A Year to Live" based on Stephen Levine’s book, which invites participants to live as if it were their last year on Earth. This workshop was life-changing for me. It included monthly sessions focused on themes like forgiveness, wish fulfillment, and preparing for life’s inevitable end. On the day the course began, my mom and I went shopping for a notebook to use in the workshop. I asked her to pick it out for me, and she chose a beautiful one with a cloth cover that had the inscription "Sunny Skies Ahead."
I used that notebook faithfully until the day my mom passed away suddenly. That day, in a moment of overwhelming loss, I opened the notebook and wrote her a letter—a letter of goodbye. From that point on, the notebook became more than just a tool for the course. It became a place where, every Sunday night, I continue our ritual by writing to her. In these written "phone calls," I share my life with her—my achievements, my struggles, my fears. It's my way of staying connected to her, and it’s been the most powerful way for me to navigate my grief.
Writing as a Healing Practice
Writing these weekly letters has become my sacred ritual. It’s how I continue to process my loss, and how I still feel close to my mother despite her physical absence. For me, grief isn’t something that can be resolved or overcome; it’s something I’ve learned to live with, and these letters help me do that. Writing allows me to express what I can’t always say out loud. It gives me a way to reflect, to release, and to feel that my mom is still a part of my life.
I believe that sharing this experience might help some of you who are also going through the pain of loss. Many of us find it difficult to stay connected to those we’ve lost, and it can feel as though the relationship ends the moment they pass. But it doesn’t have to. Writing has given me a way to continue my bond with my mom, to carry her with me through my life, and to keep our Sunday ritual alive.
Sharing in the Grief Journey
If you’re also going through a journey of grief, I invite you to explore your own ways of staying connected to your loved ones. It could be through writing, like me, or through a different kind of ritual that feels meaningful to you. Perhaps it’s lighting a candle, visiting a special place, or simply sitting in silence and remembering them.
Grief is a personal and often lonely process, but you don’t have to go through it alone. I’d love to hear about the ways you’re navigating your own loss. Please feel free to share your stories with me in the comments below. Together, we can create a space where we honor our loved ones, our grief, and ourselves.
With all my love,
Virginia