My Own Mother...

I moved away 7 years ago... part of that was to run away from pain... wounds that could not possibly heal... I ran away from grief... I ran away from the Grandparents I thought my children would have.

But today... after moving much closer to home I am grateful... Today I am grateful for my Mom.

She as well has wounds and grief that I understand better now... and we have both healed some.

She has come out of oppressive religion... and embraced a confidence that is hers to own.

She has cast away men who did not value her... and I believe she has found herself a gooder this time.

She has shown up when I needed her... When I spent the night with one of my children in the E.R., I did not worry about the other 2... they were with Grandma.

She gave me a break from my craft fair booth last weekend... not because I asked, but because she volunteered.

She is not perfect... but more importantly I have stopped hoping she will be... I have stopped wishing I was adopted by a Caroline Ingalls and fallen in love with my own mother...sarcasm and all.