Mother Of My Heart

I’ve never been close to my biological mother. My aunt filled that place in my heart. After years of health problems, she passed away earlier this year. The one person, who really knew me (because we had shared such similar lives) and still loved me in spite of it all, was gone. I felt like my world just dropped out from beneath me. It is so comforting to have that warm embrace you know will always be waiting for you, no matter what. Losing that affected me much more than I ever realized it might.

Yesterday, I was thinking of her and the life she had. We all experience bad things, many of which are beyond our control. Sometimes, we are able to move past it, sometimes we cannot. It may be because the trauma was too great, the time for healing not yet long enough, or, maybe, we intentionally harbor the anger and betrayal, for some reason, all our own.

I haven’t gotten to the point to decide what her reasons might have been, but I know she’d never gotten over the pain. These are not the things one can ever forget… sometimes all we can hope for is to be far enough removed emotionally to see the situation more objectively – to no longer be controlled by it.

I realized that she had died still carrying that weight. That epiphany changed me more than my initial grief. It was not all the trips left untaken or the things she was never able to afford… those were not the regrets. It is living, until the end, holding such a burden. It wrenches my heart to imagine dying with it. That feeling, alone, is enough to free me of some foolish things I’d insisted on holding onto.

This is her last gift to me. I intend to let it not be wasted.
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26-30
May 4, 2012