I friend of mine said, based on what we had been discussing, it sounded as if I hadn’t let go of my past or at least come to accept it.
I’ve been thinking about that and I realize she is right. I think most folks would understand why. My mother left me when I was 2 ish and then again when I was 4. I have two memories of my mother between the ages of 2 and 4. One was when I was on the floor of the laundry room and she was sorting laundry. The other was when I was at my grandfather’s house and she was visiting. She sent my older siblings out of the room and sang me a lullaby. I did see my mother after that every other weekend and then later lived with her for a few years. My mother never did anything to me per se, i.e. strike me, ground me, or really discipline me in any effective way. I guess that’s just it. She didn’t behave as a mother. I put up a wall for as long as I can remember. Something wasn’t right. The bond just wasn’t there. I have since tried and I know she has tried to repair that and we’ve made some improvement.
As an adult I can see what led to her decisions. As bad as my childhood was, her’s was worse. The fact that she is alive now is a true testament of her survivor instincts. Something I have definitely inherited. I can say that I love her and she loves me without hesitation.
More to come, however God has me write it. I put this picture in just because it’s beautiful.