A part of me is haunted by the fact that one day I’ll have to live and breathe on this earth without you. Today you had minor surgery. I cringe in anger that our bodies can fail us. I cower because it’s a helpless happening of the human condition. We are forced into this. We have no choice. Although you don’t need it-I’m saddened that you have to live with one less piece of your body. Today as I cried in your lap a sweep of sadness came over me. Since you have to live with one less piece of you-so do I. It feels like our story has reached its prime. These are the days I cherish. The days I can appreciate you.
I don’t know how to handle hurt. So I carry on in life acting completely unfazed, unbothered. I’d rather separate myself from the hurt. In turn, I detach myself from that person or problem. It’s easier to write you off than discuss what is bothering me. I find comfort in avoidance but today-I couldn’t ignore it.
It all came crashing down. I cried for every secret you kept to keep me safe, for every penny you gave me to keep me satisfied-for every heart break, for every victory – for all of the decisions you made as my mother; good or bad. I cried for you today, but the more I think about it-I cried for me today.