My Mother’s Shoes
‘Heidi’ was my favorite book growing up. I had a relationship with my maternal grandfather much like the one Heidi did. My parents were busy. I think they gave him to me to love. I think they gave him to me to feel loved.
My mother gave me my first dog ‘Rusty’. To this day, both Poppy and Rusty remind me of being loved. Tears come without the ability to hold them back. Since Dad died, I wished he were here to talk football and jazz. Since Mom died, tears come without the ability to hold them back.
I gave my parents my daughter to love and be loved. I gave her Quody and Jake and Lil’ Guy because I was busy. Some spaces can never be filled nor are they meant to. When you love deeply, there is no replacement. Knowing the space exists and cannot be filled, somehow makes you feel whole.
I can walk in my mother’s shoes but never fill them. I believe she knew some secrets about living life well. I believe she had the courage to grow old and to let go when it was time. I know she knew I would be eternally grateful but I also know I could not love her this way while she was alive.
It’s Mother’s Day 2017.
They say it’s Spring
Creating meaningfulness where the emptiness, loneliness, anger, shame and guilt lie is like taking a swing at a tennis ball and hitting air. What just happened? How far away was I?
Reconciliation with self, then others, takes on a lot of time. Walking alone feels right; walking with others awkward. Laughing is a miserable experience afterward. Crying just seems to come naturally.
If the amaryllis plant can spring up for the fifth year without so much as a little water, so can I speak without my voice cracking as it once did.
The Snow Is Deep
Veiled in the busi ness of the day lies the under belly of emotion.