As I’m working on her house, I’m finding boxes that her husband must of packed after she died. Her most precious, private things. I found a little journal with the spine barely cracked, she didn’t write much. It was obviously the things that pained her the most. Her uncensored feelings. Which she didn’t show the world until dementia broke the barrier between truth and facade. By that time, it was too messy to make sense of completely.
Her words are heartbreaking and raw. She expressed things that I never knew hurt her, and sadly I see that much of her coping was avoidance. It’s strange to see how she never really got the hang of dealing with the past, but that’s not surprising considering how she was raised. She was an amazing woman despite what she had buried inside, but she didn’t have the strength to pull herself up and out.
Her feelings are eerily similar to my own, yet some are so far fetched, only an abused mind would have tolerated them. She did though. I know she did the best she could. I know she loved me. I wish hadn’t met the man she married. He destroyed her and she let him. She lived thinking love was letting people walk all over her.
I am so thankful for her, and so thankful that I am not her. That the courage she had came through me, because she loved me so much. I know she would be so proud of me. I know she is still with me.
Her words came at just the right time. They will help me understand myself better. They will push me through this growth, out of the soil and through the fear of tenderness and vulnerability, into the light of love. She was a magical lady, despite not knowing her power fully, I’m so glad she was my Mom. I love her and I miss her so much, but her passing is truly what set me free. I feel she would do anything for me in life or death and that love is sustenance for my soul. I can continue where she couldn’t and my son can grow even further from my ashes as well.
So back in the good ol EP days I wrote a lot. I had the time to do it. The whiteboard was my journal as it was an easy place to jot down things while they were still raw and unfiltered. I had a plan to leave my log in information in my will. Open it up to the whole family so they could see the other side of me when it didnt matter anymore. Let them judge the dead all they want. That of course is all gone now. A lifetime of experience nuked when the site went down. Sad really. But at the same time Im a different person again now, so the past probably doesnt matter.
@Firegod74 It matters, but obviously didn’t need to be held onto, because you still have the experience. You used it to get you through. And then poof, but that didn’t make it any less relevant. I will burn my moms journal and my own once I figure some things out.
I have been going through my mums things after she died last month and she wrote lots of things but unfortunately her writing is not easy to read so haven't really started trying to read them yet.
.... She was an amazing woman despite what she had buried inside, but she didn’t have the strength to pull herself up and out.
.... I am so thankful for her, and so thankful that I am not her. That the courage she had came through me, because she loved me so much. I know she would be so proud of me. I know she is still with me.
.... She was a magical lady, despite not knowing her power fully, I’m so glad she was my Mom. I love her and I miss her so much, but her passing is truly what set me free. I feel she would do anything for me in life or death and that love is sustenance for my soul.
Wonderful 🤗 words
.... Her words came at just the right time. They will help me understand myself better. They will push me through this growth, out of the soil and through the fear of tenderness and vulnerability, into the light of love.
.... I can continue where she couldn’t and my son can grow even further from my ashes as well.
