Trust

I have always found trust an easy thing to feel. For the most part, people make it easy to trust them - more often than not because they are trustworthy in general. And, of course, when a person breaks that trust, you can simply know to never feel that level of comfort with them again.

But what happens if the person who breaks the trust is someone you are intimately entwined with? How does that lost bond ever heal? The easy answer is that the other party heals it with love and kindness and by humbling themselves. They work hard to be sure you know you can trust them in the future. They understand the seriousness of what they have broken. They walk gently and understand you can't magically trust them again. They think before they act. They make it clear their respect and love for you is their number one priority in your lives.

And if they don't heal it? Then the opposite happens and the relationship dwindles and deteriorates until it is incapable of repair. That happens when the actions of the other person continue to produce stress, fear, tears, and mistrust. I would think this an easy concept. At least easier than many others I can think of. But the offending party would have to be sincere and be able to look outside themselves, with no expectation of if, when or how the trust grows again. They would simply have to be kind.

But as I write this, I realize that the facts would indicate the latter is a person who, in general, is not kind, does not love the other person, does not respect them and cannot find a positive attitude about life in general. And then that relationship isn't really a relationship of love. And the time invested, how ever many years that might be, have been wasted on something for which there is no hope.

I don't think these relatonships begin that way. I think it, sadly, just grows that way. Something or someone became broken and never cared to be whole again. I grieve because of it, but I know there is nothing more I can do. So instead, I do what I must to protect those I love and I severe that relationship with hopes and prayers that it is the right thing to do and that I am protecting us the best I can.

There has been too much pain. Too much fear and hurt and stress. Now we need peace and this is the only way I know to give that to us. Just the two of us...what once was three.

Mother's Day

I guess it's the firsts that will hurt so much. First day after her death when I awoke and my first thought was that she was gone. The first phone call after I got home to speak to my dad and not her. The first sympathy card. The first comment from a friend. Now Mother's Day is upon us and it will be another first. Already I feel the ache in my heart. Already I feel the loss. And feeling this, I can't imagine how much more difficult it is for my sister, Kandi, who has cared for my parents all these years.

Since I had my daughter, Mother's Day has always been my favorite holiday. Not because mother's are the center of it but because I was given the gift of becoming a mother and my joy in that has been my greatest joy in life. This year, it's hard to feel that same way because my mother is gone from this earth. I know her spirit is with me when I need her. I know her love is there. But I won't hear her voice or see her face or talk to her and make her laugh again until I have moved from this life myself.

My husband asked me what I wanted to do for Mother's Day. I gave a half-hearted answer because nothing feels right. I might just go to church and then go to bed for the rest of the day. At least, that's what I'll feel like doing. But instead I'll smile and love on my sweet little daughter who gave me that joy beyond measure. That's what my mom would do, too.

I'm not sure what to do with the Mother's Day card I'd already bought for you when I couldn't decide between the two I narrowed it down to.

I miss you, Mama. I miss hearing your voice on the phone. I miss sharing things with you, hearing you laugh, listening to the love in your tone when you say you love me and miss me. I love and miss you, too.