On the Lighter Side

A HEARTY THANK YOU TO all of your for reading and commenting on the passing of "the mother" and my bumpy grieving process. Each and every comment warmed my heart. You're such amazing, kind, compassionate people. You do a girl good. Thank you, a bazillion times! 

In the wake of two very somber posts, I decided we needed to lighten things up this time around. I wasn't sure what I was going to say until this morning when I saw this cartoon on my hubster's page-a-day calendar. 

How inventive is that? Come to think of it, I suppose this isn't much lighter for all the men who might be reading this. Sorry guys. 

Here's hoping you have a splendid July 4th holiday. Smiles and hugs to you all.

A Tale of Two Sisters

Hi Everyone,

First, I want to send out a HUGE message of gratitude to all of you who commented on the passing of "the mother" in my last post. It meant and still means the world to me. I truly value each of you for your insight, compassion, understanding and encouragement. 

How did I get so blessed? Sometimes I'm still baffled as to why anyone would care. But you do and I'm very grateful. 

If you're an introspective type like I am, the passing of a family member or loved one (or both) can leave you with a lot of sorting to do. In an effort to squash any self-delusion, one must take an honest look at themselves and take responsibility for the actions (or inactions) that may have contributed to the toxicity of the relationship.  

I'll always wonder if I should have done more to foster a relationship with the woman that birthed me. I'm certain that I could have, had I ignored my feelings of rejection and accepted unconditionally the aloof role that the mother desired to play in my life. 

This is what my sister did. She loved the mother in spite of the chasm that existed between them. She cared. She displayed unconditional love towards the frail woman lying on her deathbed. She was willing to put aside her own desires and decades of pain for the sake of being there for her mother. Pretty dang heroic if you ask me. And what did she get for it? Not a whole lot. 

I'm not that kind of person. I'm selfish. I need authenticity. I needed the mother to take initiative and clear the air. I needed understanding as much as I needed to understand. I needed to know why. I needed to open the wounds and clean them out rather than massage the scar tissue. 

Is either method right or wrong? I don't know. I'm just hobbling along, doing what seems right to me. But maybe I'm blinded by self-delusion. 

Any thoughts?