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View Diary: To My Dad & Sorry for my Rant (123 comments)

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  •  My mother pretty much disowned me (3+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:
    blue91, DianeNYS, peregrine kate

    after my father died at 46 with lymphoma.  She wanted me to quit college so I could come home to 'take care of her'.  I was the ungrateful and selfish daughter who never came to see her (except every single weekend), who never called her (except every other day), who didn't love her (except that I helped to support her financially, sent her cards and gifts, etc).

    We remained at odds with one another for almost 30 years, until she finally became so ill with emphysema, she was hospitalized in the ICU before dying three weeks later.  It was while I visited her in the hospital that I finally let go of the anger, guilt, and sadness buried inside for all of those years.  She was so helpless in her last days that watching her frailty and humanity broke the wall, and although she couldn't speak very well, she knew that we were finally OK.

    I wrote a poem for my mom, and read it at her funeral:

    I CRADLE YOU

    Like a baby, I cradle you
    In these arms of mine
    Brush back your hair now soft and gray
    Worn by the passing of time.

    I see the pain and fear
    That lies deep in your eyes
    Your time on earth is short
    Yet I am here.

    Every breath a struggle
    Every heartbeat wanes
    How is this possible
    For the one who gave life to me?

    Oh soft touch, warm breath of mine
    Take away this pain
    Erase the years of anger and sadness
    Born of distance and neglect.

    Peaceful lullaby, weave your gentle tune
    All we need is here and now
    Pray softly, strum slowly
    Convey my love anew.

    Carry this soul into heaven above
    To be rejoined with those who love
    Mother, daughter, sister, wife
    We give thanks for all of your life.

    And leave behind your warm sweet smile
    For me to carry all the while
    It fills me with peace and joy
    Until we meet again.

    Know what you believe, why you believe it, who believes with you, and how it matters. Stand for what you believe, believe what you stand for.

    by VeloVixen on Wed Nov 28, 2012 at 02:27:35 PM PST

    •  This is beautiful... (1+ / 0-)
      Recommended by:
      VeloVixen

      I really like this poem, and I'm sure she did, too...I'm sure of it...

      "What would you think me if I were capable of seating myself at a table and gorging myself with food and saw about me the children of my fellow beings starving to death." - Eugene Victor Debs

      by DianeNYS on Wed Nov 28, 2012 at 08:04:58 PM PST

      [ Parent ]

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