Portrait on a Disappearing Canvas: The other side of Mother's Day
Love with a vale
I love you mom, I love you son
isn't that the way it's designed to be?
And oh when that way is so, so good is that way.
Today is a day of celebration
for many whose way this has been
It is also a day whose burden is heavy
Something was awry in the way we were
There was no doubt love
there could be no other way
yet something or someone had changed
from the way they used to be
to the way I remember it to be.
For all of us who have experienced the simultaneous joy of love, the confusion and heartbreak of miscommunication and misunderstanding, let it be said that there is still love that remains, no matter what has transpired, no matter what the circumstance. The balance of life will have it no other way.
Though my mother was uneducated, emotionally distraught and abused in ways only she could acknowledge by family, friends and herself, she put a roof over my head, she fed me enough food for my physical growth, she protected me and she nurtured me in a very important way. Though she often was too worn out physically and emotionally to express it, I knew I was loved. It didn't even matter that sometimes there seemed to be conditions attached to that love. I know it was there, even through the pain of negativity which, at times, haunts me today.
How do I know I was loved? Time! Time has been my teacher. Time has allowed me to see through the vale. Time has made available the presence of other mother relationships. Not my own, there can be no substitution, no replacement, but relationships for my personal viewing, for my edification and for my continued nurturing, even in my season of aging.
A Unique Relationship
Your relationship with your mother was/is:See results without voting
The lessons are many
some more profound than others
Deeply grateful for the balance of life
I can now see through the vale to the core
It was not my mother teaching me through love
it was my time to be taught by the love of this mother.
I will only understand it intellectually as I am able
Emotionally I will know because it never ends
Thanks Mom, for your effort. I miss you deeply
I am still alive, still growing and still learning
how to be...
an impossibility without you!
The Way It's Supposed To Be
One Lasting Memory
My mother crossed over on February 23. 1985.
After 28 years I can barely remember her face without a photograph.
Her voice is now just a whisper, so faint there are no echoes
I can no longer see her eye to eye, though we often didn't see life that way anyway
I can no longer feel the squeeze of the hugs that were few and far between
The memory is so distant I have to strain to remember how good it was when it was good
But I know it happened and my regret is that I didn't contribute more to the relationship than I took.
I hope that has changed me, is changing me,
And of all that does remain, still, there is love!
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