Love is never lost. It hides deep inside you, even when you think it is gone. Love of your family, no matter where the world takes you, where your lives take you, how much you separate yourselves from each other, it is there. It is always there.
Through everything, I loved my mother. Through all the hate, through all the pain, through all the hurtful words, phony visits, and misunderstandings. Through not speaking for ten years. Through everyone that knew us both blaming me. I carried that all deep inside and loved my mother.
When I lost my mother, I lost a piece of myself. All that hurt I had been carrying, I knew I was going to have to carry forever at that moment. It was too late to unload it. I lost my chance.
Going back to a place I hadn’t been in years, that I couldn’t be any longer; the familiar sites, the familiar sounds – it brought me back – it reminded me of all the pain that being there had caused, it reminded me of how my mom and I got to where we were.
Every day, new thoughts, new memories flowed through my mind, just being back somewhere I never thought I’d be again. It was all too complicated for comprehension. I didn’t know what I was feeling anymore, didn’t know what I was thinking. Six months later and it has not become any clearer.
We lost each other that day. I lost a mother, one day at a time, hoping to have her back for ten years. Then, it was over. There was no more hope. She lost a chance to see what her daughter became, what her granddaughters were becoming. Their whole life, she will never know.
And now, now I heal. I release the last ten years of non-contact. I release all the years of hurt and pain. I rebuild myself, one piece at a time, one day at a time. Our relationship is gone forever, my love was never lost.
And that is why I wrote “the loss of A MOTHER’s loss”. Release, rebuild, repair. Release, rebuild, repair.
Through everything, I loved my mother. Through all the hate, through all the pain, through all the hurtful words, phony visits, and misunderstandings. Through not speaking for ten years. Through everyone that knew us both blaming me. I carried that all deep inside and loved my mother.
When I lost my mother, I lost a piece of myself. All that hurt I had been carrying, I knew I was going to have to carry forever at that moment. It was too late to unload it. I lost my chance.
Going back to a place I hadn’t been in years, that I couldn’t be any longer; the familiar sites, the familiar sounds – it brought me back – it reminded me of all the pain that being there had caused, it reminded me of how my mom and I got to where we were.
Every day, new thoughts, new memories flowed through my mind, just being back somewhere I never thought I’d be again. It was all too complicated for comprehension. I didn’t know what I was feeling anymore, didn’t know what I was thinking. Six months later and it has not become any clearer.
We lost each other that day. I lost a mother, one day at a time, hoping to have her back for ten years. Then, it was over. There was no more hope. She lost a chance to see what her daughter became, what her granddaughters were becoming. Their whole life, she will never know.
And now, now I heal. I release the last ten years of non-contact. I release all the years of hurt and pain. I rebuild myself, one piece at a time, one day at a time. Our relationship is gone forever, my love was never lost.
And that is why I wrote “the loss of A MOTHER’s loss”. Release, rebuild, repair. Release, rebuild, repair.