Tonight

The moon is full. Unsuccessful at taking a decent photo.

Then the halo, not seen by the naked eye, glows around the photo the millisecond before snapping the photo and the bright moonlit sky splits and many bits and pieces of my life, my errors, my joys, my everything from birth begins to float around me making a Joseph’s coat for my frail frame.

There has been no rant at the Universe today. A quiet day of contemplation. A few common household choirs. No strong feelings one way or the other rather an absence of feeling. I float from one room to another remembering this was not always a happy home. I rewrote my own life in this house to suit my wishes.

No one talked. Feelings were always on edge. Messages written on paper napkins. My unconditional love for my children. I could have tried to take us all to therapy. Figure out what was really going on rather than accepting the status quo. I felt I had done something to hurt my son deeply but what?

I will not know ever. Perhaps My daughter knows. Will she tell me the reality?

He chose not to tell me he had cancer. I do not know why. One night he did say, “I thought you hated me all my life”. Was it the drugs? No it was his small voice I heard and I asked him why I would have fought so hard for him all his life to make him well. He never complained. I guess he accepted his fate. I think in the end he knew I loved him and would have been glad to die in his place. I begged to go first. God, the Universe did not grant my wish.

Why? I seem to have no purpose but to tell his stories or are they mine? Am I the keeper of the stories?

I wish I could sleep.

2 thoughts on “Tonight”

  1. As a daughter who grew up in a dysfunctional home, my mom your age, I also thought my parents hated me. Oh, I can tell you stories of family dysfunction . . . lots of them, but I’d have to write another book, or two, or three. I can tell you this . . . as someone who is your son’s age and has reflected, which I’m sure he did before he left this earth, I now know that my parents love me. Your son left here knowing you love him, and he still feels your love. I think there is a certain age we grown children hit, when we understand why our parents did what they did, and we forgive. We accept, we move on and love them unconditionally. I know your son did all those things. And, by move on, I mean we don’t dwell on the past anymore. Even if he got perturbed once in a while, that doesn’t mean he didn’t know you loved him or didn’t love you. Just like any relationship, that with my husband, a friend, even my dog, they can do something that might tweak a nerve. We might get snappy for a moment, but it’s quickly forgotten and we move on.

    Sorry if this is too much.

    Like

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