“She acts like summer and walks like rain, reminds me that there’s time for change”
My hiatus from writing was due partially to lack of inspiration but also a censorship on my part. For years I wrote blogs where I would continually bitch about my life and where it was. None of this was really all that productive. After writing these blogs I wouldn’t feel better and I wouldn’t feel like I achieved anything personally from it. In the past 6 months I have seen my writing change drastically. I’ve felt the pull from my heart and brain as I began writing with reason. And the pain that I had slowly has begun to stop aching. Progress.
“Nothing last forever and we both know hearts can change.”
Recently a family member lost her mother. This loss called to heart my own mother who in recent events I’ve not spoken to. I have mommy issues. I hate the choices she made and I resent her for the life I lived. I feel like I am having to relearn things and grow up all over again to straighten out the kinks that have braided themselves into my personality.
But I miss the smell of her perfume, I miss laying with her and smelling her smokey sweet smell.
Mother’s day came and went and my heart was heavy with pain, I seemed to have lost both of my mothers, one because of my need to recoil and pull back from the lacerations caused to my heart, and the other two a vicious disease.
I attempted to call her multiple times but she never answered. And then finally the connection happened.
“Mom?” I said weakly.
“Hello?” she responded back truly lost as to who was calling her. My heart ached – did she not remember my voice? Had it changed that much in the past 1.5 years?
“It’s Jennie…” I offered my voice trailing.
And then all of the walls I had built fell apart.
We talked for an hour as I drove down to visit my boyfriend for the weekend. I told her about my life, I told her about my achievements I told her about my oh so hot boyfriend and how I’ve really fallen in love.
She was proud. She was always proud of me. My mom had always talked about “her smart and witty daughter.” She had always supported my writing and creativity. It felt good to hear her tell me that she was so happy that I was doing well. I felt the compassion in her voice and for once, I didn’t respond in bitter rage. I soaked in the glow of a mother daughter connection, melted into it.
As I hung up the phone allowing her permission into my life again, I felt the cold walls build up again. I had callers remorse. In a weak moment I felt like I had betrayed my own thoughts. I had not listened to my better half that said she was poison in my life. In an instant I had forgotten all the roller coasters her love had taken me on. I had forgotten the scars that are so apparent to those who meet me. I wanted so badly to feel this that I ignored the pain, just as I had in the past.
I wanted this to be different. I want to be the one in control of the relationship. I knew I had to proceed with caution. While I felt sorry for her with her health so deteriorated I also felt the snide thoughts pour in. They darkened the beautiful pure moment of joy I had felt only seconds before.
It was bittersweet moment for me and I find myself conflicted.
“Someone told me long ago, there’s a calm before the storm. I know, It’s been comin’ for sometime…”
