Ohhhhh. What a beautiful and frightening way to look at the day…how did you know my mother, excatly?
You and Bluebird Ave inspire me daily to try writing the poetry that I so love to read. Thank you.
When my Mom died, my sister, an alchoholic, went on a binge, leaving my Dad to grief and clean up after a drunk. It took me years to forgive her. Three years. I only did so after a friend showed me a funny card her own sister had sent her. I went home and cried, then I picked up the phone. Six months after I forgave her, my sister died suddenly and unexpectedly. Not a day goes by when I don’t think how close I was to having harsh words be the last spoken between us, and I am thankful that I called her.
My advice to anyone in this situation is forgive, even if it must be done cautiously.
I write about a lot of things, and my words sometimes forget to say the most important thing of all. Thank goodness someone finally said it out loud. Open the letter. Now.
How many letters lay unopened our desks? I opened the letter that brought me back into contact with my father. The note inside said “I am still a self-absorbed hypochondriac. I’m still not interested in being your father. I’ve got new children and they wear me out” (he adopted his 4th wife’s grandchildren). I never got a moment of his love or affection – but I no longer wondered if it could be different – that was just was the way it was and I stopped wishing for something more.
Some letters are best left unopened, but we’re never sure which ones those are. Some letters may offer some healing. I open them all and hope for the best. I was my mid-20’s when my Mom died and I am thankful that there was nothing left unsaid between us. I can’t imagine that sort of loss without resolution and love. In fact, I’ve been so affected by the shortness of life that I am almost incapable of sustaining a mad-on for any period of time because once the opportunity for reconciliation is lost it opens the door for a life of sorry and recriminations. Life is short, at best, and it comes with unexpected conclusions.
year-struck 
Oh man, that’s haunting.
Thanks so much for reading, Brian.
Ohhhhh. What a beautiful and frightening way to look at the day…how did you know my mother, excatly?
You and Bluebird Ave inspire me daily to try writing the poetry that I so love to read. Thank you.
I’m glad you liked this. So many people have complicated relationships with their mothers.
Oh dear. This brought tears to my eyes.
When my Mom died, my sister, an alchoholic, went on a binge, leaving my Dad to grief and clean up after a drunk. It took me years to forgive her. Three years. I only did so after a friend showed me a funny card her own sister had sent her. I went home and cried, then I picked up the phone. Six months after I forgave her, my sister died suddenly and unexpectedly. Not a day goes by when I don’t think how close I was to having harsh words be the last spoken between us, and I am thankful that I called her.
My advice to anyone in this situation is forgive, even if it must be done cautiously.
Open the letter.
Thank you for sharing that story, Elyse. I’m glad you reconciled and don’t have to live with that regret.
I write about a lot of things, and my words sometimes forget to say the most important thing of all. Thank goodness someone finally said it out loud. Open the letter. Now.
You say so many good and important things, ntexas99. Thank you for sharing this.
This is the sort of stuff I absolutely treasure…heart felt…like the Postcards book. Words are windows on souls.
I am please that you like it.
How many letters lay unopened our desks? I opened the letter that brought me back into contact with my father. The note inside said “I am still a self-absorbed hypochondriac. I’m still not interested in being your father. I’ve got new children and they wear me out” (he adopted his 4th wife’s grandchildren). I never got a moment of his love or affection – but I no longer wondered if it could be different – that was just was the way it was and I stopped wishing for something more.
I love your blog. Thanks.
What a heartrending story. I’m sorry that the contents were so awful, but it seems it helped you to move on and deal with the hurt.
Thank you so much for reading.
beautiful
Thank you, ShimonZ.
Thanks. There are a few letters I need to open.
Best of luck.
Some letters are best left unopened, but we’re never sure which ones those are. Some letters may offer some healing. I open them all and hope for the best. I was my mid-20’s when my Mom died and I am thankful that there was nothing left unsaid between us. I can’t imagine that sort of loss without resolution and love. In fact, I’ve been so affected by the shortness of life that I am almost incapable of sustaining a mad-on for any period of time because once the opportunity for reconciliation is lost it opens the door for a life of sorry and recriminations. Life is short, at best, and it comes with unexpected conclusions.
You have a good perspective. Life is much too short to leave things undone.