Marilyn & Me
This is me with my Mom (Marilyn) when I was about 4 years old. Odds are strong this photograph was made by my mother's sister, Marcia (Aunt Marcia).
Today would be my Mom's 89th birthday if she were still here with us, but her days on this earth ended when she was a mere 31 years old, and I was only 9 years old.
I remember the day this photograph was made. A lot of photographs were made that day, including some of me with my Uncle Poky (Aunt Marcia's husband). I remember my Mom's dress, my shoes, and my stuffed dog.
When October 29th rolls around each year, I can't help but remember my Mom. I lost her so long ago, and at such a young age, and I have missed her so much over the years. But now I realize with each passing year that I'm getting closer and closer to being reunited with her again. I'm thinking we'll have a lot to talk about on that day.
One of the moments in my Mom's life that I remember with great clarity is the day I came down the stairwell from my upstairs bedroom to find her sitting at our large round oak dining room table with an open Bible in front of her, with her head bowed, as she wept uncontrollably. It was the first time I remembered seeing her crying like that, and it frightened me and confused me. I went over to her and hugged her and asked her what was wrong. With her eyes filled with tears and her cheeks glistening wet, she assured me she was okay. But the truth is, she wasn't okay, and in fact she was conflicted in ways that no human ever wants to face.
It was only as I was older and wiser that I was able to understand that parents, no matter how much they love their children, are still subject to making mistakes, sometimes tragic mistakes, that have consequences that can last forever. But I also understood that despite those mistakes, her love for me was never diminished.
When we meet again, the first words I plan to share with her are these: "I love you, I'm sorry for what you endured, and I understand that mistakes can be tragic. But most of all, I forgive you."
And then we'll get on with life -- life without end, without pain, without sadness, without tears.
Marilyn & Me
This is me with my Mom (Marilyn) when I was about 4 years old. Odds are strong this photograph was made by my mother's sister, Marcia (Aunt Marcia).
Today would be my Mom's 89th birthday if she were still here with us, but her days on this earth ended when she was a mere 31 years old, and I was only 9 years old.
I remember the day this photograph was made. A lot of photographs were made that day, including some of me with my Uncle Poky (Aunt Marcia's husband). I remember my Mom's dress, my shoes, and my stuffed dog.
When October 29th rolls around each year, I can't help but remember my Mom. I lost her so long ago, and at such a young age, and I have missed her so much over the years. But now I realize with each passing year that I'm getting closer and closer to being reunited with her again. I'm thinking we'll have a lot to talk about on that day.
One of the moments in my Mom's life that I remember with great clarity is the day I came down the stairwell from my upstairs bedroom to find her sitting at our large round oak dining room table with an open Bible in front of her, with her head bowed, as she wept uncontrollably. It was the first time I remembered seeing her crying like that, and it frightened me and confused me. I went over to her and hugged her and asked her what was wrong. With her eyes filled with tears and her cheeks glistening wet, she assured me she was okay. But the truth is, she wasn't okay, and in fact she was conflicted in ways that no human ever wants to face.
It was only as I was older and wiser that I was able to understand that parents, no matter how much they love their children, are still subject to making mistakes, sometimes tragic mistakes, that have consequences that can last forever. But I also understood that despite those mistakes, her love for me was never diminished.
When we meet again, the first words I plan to share with her are these: "I love you, I'm sorry for what you endured, and I understand that mistakes can be tragic. But most of all, I forgive you."
And then we'll get on with life -- life without end, without pain, without sadness, without tears.