Turning Into Mom
I hear my mom’s voice many mornings when I roll out of bed, her eyes looking back at me in a mirror, both of us crying a little,
it was our habit to refer back to minutes, weeks, months, or years gone by, when forced to keep doing, as opposed to enjoying each other,
when we sat eye-to-eye, we were estranged, waiting for our bodies to stop hurting, and our minds to stop accusing and excusing,
but now that she is deceased, I try to simplify my twisted feelings by trying to forgive and forget, and remember our anger at the world did not compromise our love for each other.
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Regis
Georg
Cheers,
Dan
JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Beautifully written. Probably more people than would like to admit have skirmishes with their Moms. But in the end, love prevails. I'm sorry about your Mom, I lost mine also six years ago. Seems like yesterday, the pain is still there.
Mary
good wishes...nice write..remembering mother
thanks for sharing Joyce White
neerja