Thoughts from my mom…

I can’t concentrate
I can’t concentrate on our argument
with this hard pain in my chest
this other hand closing on my heart
saying give in, give in –
I insist I must make myself
attend to you both, you both have your
right, your hands filled with me, the
mess of me.
I will come to you
                                in time
& you when I can. You
outside me, trying to get in,
& you inside me, trying
to get me out.

So, it’s been a long while since I posted anything on here. I’ve ‘been busy’. But not really. I’ve been plugging along, wishing things were different but doing little to make it so.

It’s been spring break for me the last couple of weeks and I did make myself a plan, to do list, goals…whatever you’d like to call it. I’m happy to say I probably completed over half of it!

One of the things I wanted to do was go through ‘the blue room’. It’s a room that houses all the art supplies, ephemera, and memorabilia from my parents lives etc, etc.

As I was moving and shuffling and sorting I came across the above written note. My mom struggled with mental health issues – probably through  her whole life. All the while I knew her anyway.

I have no idea what was happening for her when she wrote it but my first thought was it had something to do with dad and I. I wish she were here to ask! Mom and I had a tumultuous relationship for most of my life – thankfully at the end we were  both able to put it behind us and were very close.

When I found this in a box filled with pictures, cards, obituaries, old bills and who knows what else I was kind of excited! Even though I have no idea what the story is behind it, it is a part of my mom and how she was feeling. I like that I can still get glimpse into who she was.

Then I looked around at all the boxes and became a little sad. Where will all this go when I’m gone? My kids won’t have the same attachment to it that I do because they didn’t get a chance to see it as they were growing up like I did. There are no real stories for them to try and draw conclusions from.

I brought the paper upstairs after I finished clearing and stacking to make space and then this morning I came up with the idea to just start sharing some of my finds on here. I don’t fee right just shipping it off to a thrift store or recycling it…it’s my parent lives, a whole other era. I think it deserves to be shared.

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