His love for my mother wasn't about looking back and loving something that would never change. It was about loving my mother for everything -- for her brokenness and her fleeing, for her being there right then in that moment before the sun rose and the hospital staff came in. It was about touching that hair with the side of his fingertip, and knowing yet plumbing fearlessly the depths of her ocean eyes.
Alice SeboldIf I shut my eyes, I believed, I would disappear. To make it through, I had to be present the whole time.
Alice SeboldThe moon is whole all the time, but we canโt always see it. What we see is an almost moon or not-quite moon. The rest is hiding just out of view, but thereโs only one moon, so we follow it in the sky. We plan our lives based on its rhythms and tides.
Alice SeboldShe liked to imagine that when she passed, the world looked after her, but she also knew how anonymous she was. Except when she was at work, no one knew where she was at any time of day and no one waited for her. It was immaculate anonymity.
Alice SeboldAlmost everyone in heaven has someone on Earth they watch, a loved one, a friend or even a stranger who was once kind, who offered warm food or a bright smile when one of us had needed it. And when I wasnโt watching I could hear the others talking to those they loved on Earth: just as fruitlessly as me, Iโm afraid. A one-sided card cajoling and coaching of the young, a one way loving and desiring of their mates, a single-sided card that could never get signed.
Alice SeboldOnce released from life, having lost it in such violence, I couldnโt calculate my steps. I didnโt have time for contemplation. In violence it is the getting out that you concentrate on. When you begin to go over the edge, life receding from you as a boat recedes inevitably from the shore, you hold on to death tightly, like a rope that will transport you, and you swing out on it, hoping to land away from where you are.
Alice Sebold