Hard Topics

Some days it's hard to read/hear/watch/listen to people talking about their mothers.

It's like one of those scabs one has. That's slowly healing.
But hearing the word Mom, Mother, Mommy....is like picking at that scab.

Some days it's not really noticeable. A small bit picked away but it's fine to deal with.

Other dies it like the whole scab is pulled off again, leaving the wound below red and raw.

Today was one of those days that headed more towards pulling the scab off.

As one of the speakers in church today chose to, for some reason that I couldn't quite connnect in her talk, to talk about her mother.

Specifically the days before she died. 

Unlike me though, where my Mom's passing was sudden and very unexpected.

This speaker had seen the signs, had known death was coming. After all. The mom was 99 years old. 
It made sense that she wouldn't be around long.

But the talk was talking about all the things the speaker said to her mom.
All her accomplishments she'd done in life, The positions she'd held, the children she'd raised, etc etc, plus reassurances that it was okay to go.

I'm sure for others.
It was inspiring.

For me though.
It was like the scab was being torn off.

Like...circumstances before Mother Dearest's passing were positive.
We'd been together. I'd hugged her goodbye. That sort of thing.
So I don't have any regrets like that.

So overall I'm at peace with how and why Mom passed away. 
But it's still hard to hear some days.
About Mom's dying.
About people passing on.

*exhales8

Today it was a harder day.

Though I tried to listen.
Tried to imagine some of the phrases and words being spoken were words that Mother Dearest wanted me to hear.

But over all....in the end. I had to tune out, distract myself.
Because I couldn't handle it.
Not like that.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.

Until you next see these words;
I'll be watching the leaves.
Enjoy the day!

-Sarnic Dirchi