Without a wide angle, you won’t see the whole picture.
Rather than spend our lives running from adversity, we would do better spending our lives learning to love eachother through it.
You sat on my lap and said to me, “mommy you never loved me”
So, I told you stories of how happy we were to have you here, but that wasn’t enough. It was only sounds in your ear.
The times got bad, the times were sad, full of dread. You wanted to be dead.
So, I said, why don’t we see. So we opened up the picture box filled with memories. In it we found happy faces and arms holding you near. Big sister delighted with the gift of you. Paints and crafts and laughter strung together. You were the little mother to your baby brother and sister. Picture after picture of you. Grandma and Papa and you. Sisters and brother with you. Daddy mesmerized by you. And though I took most of the pictures, there were many of me tenderly beholding you.
So, at the end you said, “I guess you did love me”
Now that is not enough, and I guess it never was quite but it got you through.
And your child is born.
And from your laptop I hear, “mommy you never loved me, you are the reason times got bad, the times were sad”
Other voices say, you loved her, you got her through, it was the best you could do surrounded and running from trouble that made her full of dread wanting to be dead.
But I added to the burden, I know that.
So, now I have the picture box, that is all that is left.
Now I realize the picture box was for me.
So I could still see,
I loved you.
I guess there is little hope left
to be a mother is to be blamed for shit you did and LOTS of shit you didn’t do because you are there and it is convenient
it also is to be appreciated by the ones who are able to see that you are just a person, not a god
you are not all knowing nor are you all powerful nor are you all loving
I pray you will live long enough for your children to mature enough to see that
in the meantime, it is a very rough road
Now that you’re gone, how will I live
Will I stand and gaze at the ocean?
Yes, maybe that is what I will do
I don’t hate you, but I hate that you have chosen to say goodbye.
You couldn’t find a better way to hurt me.
You are gone.
I will always miss you.