place in my heart


She worked a lot in those younger years to help me thru college and start a career. She also gave me two beautifully and wonderfully crafted kids to call our own. Her spirit rises within them, especially my son. I see her thru their lives as I watch them absolve the question of ‘why?’ that so many of us have asked since the day she passed into eternity. I want forget that call. I understood her in ways that most folks didn’t. She was my first love, and I married her because of it. It wasn’t perfect, but for a long, long time it was real, real good. We both had the same goals and dreams, hopes and aspirations. A kind soul, she watched me grieve the death of my own mother. We moved away to raise a family and get a start on life. I was from the country; she lived in town. I was a year younger and two grades behind her in school. She drove a BMW, and I had a 71 Super beetle, but she loved me anyway. It never was about that with her and I’ll always love her for that. Her quiet spirit was overshadowed by my demonstrative gregariousness. She let me be me, but she hated when I came home drunk and stoned. We both had our demons, and both of us somehow tried to hide in the shadows of a lurking desire to make it all look good on the outside. She called me to make peace three weeks before she passed. We exchanged courtesies in our fumbling, awkward ways, and she sounded like the girl who had asked her best friend to fix us up. I’ll never forget the sweet sound of a voice that I once knew way back when. She did things with me just because I wanted to do them. She didn’t like to camp, fish, or wade creeks but she came along anyhow. I’ve held my kids on Mother’s Day until my shirt was soaking wet with tears, and asked God why. It’s not anything you can just explain away. It’s their momma and they only have one. When the wheels were falling off, I knew deep down that neither of our stories would end well. That is why I share to give hope to those who’ve had loved ones who have taken their lives to sacrifice allowing others to see how painfully tough life can really be at times. My kids learned at an early age that life is just not fair. I had hidden behind an addiction for years to mask my pain. I was her and she was me, but unfortunately, we couldn’t make a house our home towards the end. My kids picked a rose from my father’s garden to lay on her stone yesterday. We hugged, and told stories of how we all ended up here. In our own ways, we’ve had to make peace with our past. People in recovery have taught me that. Friends that we may never see again have taught us all that. It’s God alone who gives us the courage to ask for forgiveness and the willingness to forgive, but deep down inside us, we make a special place in our hearts for our loved ones that we call mothers….HMD!…b

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