This Mother's Day, I will think about my mother, who passed away from ovarian cancer in 1999.
I will think about how my diagnosis, which was dispensed thirty-five years ago, wasn't just my diagnosis.
I will think about how she hurt when I hurt.
I will think about how it pained her to see me struggle to get out of bed, to get dressed, to eat.
I will think about how she wanted to help me and I just pushed her away because I didn't want her sympathy. How that sympathy made it harder for me to do what I needed to do. Or so I erroneously thought.
I will think about my mother and let her know that I wished I had allowed her to hold me more when I hurt.
I will think about my mother and tell her that my flare-ups are fewer and further between; that I don't hurt as much now as I did then, apart from those destroyed joints and the limitations and restrictions they impose.
I will think about my mother and tell her all this and so much more.
I only wish that I could tell you what I have learned, too late, to share with you.
Thank you, Mom. I love you.
sending you hugs….
Much appreciated, Lene!
So much to think about and remember, especially the love. Love xx
Thanks, Kathrin!
I feel for you; I also appreciate you sharing why you pushed your mom away. One of my children has health issues and tends to do this as well…hearing your explanation helps me understand and not take it so personally…
Dorlee,
I’m glad that you could find something positive in this post. Thanks for letting me know.