Sunday, July 30, 2006
Mom? Hi, it's me.
Mom, would you help me?
I know you've been watching and worrying. I'm sorry, Mom. I know I waited a long time. I've been trying to do it all myself, but I can't. I need you to help me.
Tell me, Mom. What was your secret? How did you keep it together all those years? You and Dad raised five kids. Provided everything we needed and most of what we wanted every day. All I have now is me, and I'm not doing half -OK, one quarter- of what I should be doing. My house is a disaster and I am a mess. I'm going backwards fast.
I'm getting older faster too. Time is flying. Just like you said it would happen. A middle-aged baby boomer worrying a lot about her future. Hell, worrying a lot about tomorrow! Everyone else is doing pretty well with their lives. It's just your oldest here who's floundering.
Did it help to have kids? Did we somehow give you more reason to to keep going, fight harder? I never told you how scared I was to have kids. For a long time, I just expected that they would happen for me . You know, husband and family would be my life too. After I got married was when the fear showed up. I couldn't see how any kids I might have would have the life I did with you and Dad. I was afraid to give them less. I didn't want them to have a bad life. Was I wrong? Again?
I miss you, Mom. I think about you a lot. If you were still here, you would be 82. How old are you, where you are? Did you stay the same age or did you get to go back to where you wanted to be? Is your hair still gray or is it raven and full of curls again? I know your eyes still have that twinkle. That never left, even when you got sick. Do you still feel pain? Do you get tired? I wish, I hope, I pray that everything, wherever you are, is beautiful and good. Just like you.
Is there any way you can talk to me now? I promise to listen this time.
p. s. I know you know this, but I want to say it: I love you.
Always have. Always will.