I know heaven is real for my mother watches over me daily. I know God is real for He has never let me down. I cannot prove His existence to a cynic nor can I give solid proof that doesn't completely coordinate to a cause-and-effect pattern the world runs on. I cannot touch Him but I can feel His presence. I cannot converse with him like I do with friends, but I know He always listens. I may not always be confident in His plan for me, but I can tell you this- in the end, I'm always taken care of. Through my friends, my family and invariably, through Him. He is a vengeful God. He is an ever loving God. He knows when to uplift my spirit and when I need to be guided because I have strayed. I never doubted Him ever since I accepted Him.
I know my mother is in a better place, and she is present in my daily life. She is now more than ever closer to me even though I can't lie in her lap and cry my woes away. I know she is more in tune with my feelings, with my soul and she understands. She doesn't scold, she doesn't judge- she just listens.
While my faith is stronger than ever, in my quest for more, I still sometimes wonder. I am regretful that I cannot do what she has done and continues to do for me to this day. I wish I could listen to what she has to say. I wonder if she would confide in me and I wonder if she would say that she regrets taking away something so precious. I wonder if she could, would she try one last time to reach out to me. This time I would not turn her away. I wonder how much her life would have changed had she had a daughter worthy of her. I wonder if she would've been happy if S.R. was her daughter - would she have made different choices? Would she have lived a happier life? I wonder sometimes, if she really CAN listen to me. I do hope and I pray that she can, for I have a lot to say. For I have a lot to make up for. For I have a lot of tears I caused myself and I have a lot of tears to take away from her because she has a lot of tears I have caused her.
I wonder, ma, if you can listen to me, if you can see me. I wonder ma, if you and amm-amma are together and if you wished we could bond more. I wonder if you are with all the women of our family wishing your descendants took more interest in our family history. For today, I only know the name of my Grandmother. For today, I only know about the itty bitty parts of stories you would start to tell us, before we got bored and cut you off. Or cringed because we would miss our TV sitcom that was going to start in the next 5 minutes. I wonder if you could, would you? I wonder if you wished your daughters would take the time to know you- to know our gramma and great gramma..and inevitably, know ourselves? Do you regret going away? Do you regret not wanting to stay? Do you regret not saying bye? Or would you do it all over again? Do you finally see my intentions? Do you finally see how much we need you?
I hope and pray you are happy. On your terms. I hope and pray you have everything you ever wished for. I pray heaven is just as great as everyone has said it to be. Because you deserve it.
While I sit here today, in my room (that you would most probably ask me to clean) wondering and questioning ...with a hint of doubt, something in me tells me you can listen. Something in me tells me you are here. Forever, with me. Living in me through Him. Something in me tells me this is what you would say to me:
Do not stand at my grave and weep; I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow: I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumns rain. When you awaken in morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die.
(Before you send me messages telling me that I am a worthy daughter, that she is proud of me, be aware, that I know she is proud of certain aspects of me, but I also know what a worthy daughter is for I have recently seen her, and I, my loves, am no where close to it. Not for a long LONG time. Not toward the end not anywhere in the middle. I am aware of this and nothing anyone can say ...can convince me any different.. for only my mother and I know the nature of our relationship.)
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Why is it that one finds peace in the most difficult of situations? Why does clarity hit you in the midst of chaos and hurt? Why does one ultimately find more about love, friendship, stability, thickness of relationships- all in the lowest of times? Why is it that sometimes listening to songs stimulates you and sometimes the same song crowds your mind so much you feel suffocated and handcuffed to thoughts?
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