December 21, 2016
I’ve always held back my words until my mother died. In one way or another, even in private journals never seen by another soul, I have never fully let loose my words and thoughts. Sure, a lot of my writing has been quite brash and open, but believe it or not the earliest letters were all written as if she was looking over my shoulder. Even my discussions online, no matter how well-intended, are always heavily edited.
I’m glad I can stop doing that.
Do I miss my mother? Of course I do. I’ve missed her for a quarter of a fucking century, even when she lived an hour away. I’ve missed her ever since the old man got that life-changing injury and she started pegging me with dishes. But I do not miss at all the idea that even on paper I have to alter who I am because one day she’s gonna come snooping around and find naughty words.
I’m trying my best not to have a ton of outbursts and go all sideways. Tomorrow is my last day of teaching for an entire month. The kettle is boiling and there’s nothing that can be done except to take me off the burner. I’ve simply had enough. I need to process my mother’s death and move on.
In the meantime, may God judge her fairly and with compassion.