I have been delivering flowers for a local shop this Mother’s Day weekend. It is something I have done for the last several years. It brings me joy.
Flowers express the Mother perfectly; the blooms, beautiful and delicate, the stems and roots, strong and hardy. Mother’s deserve far more credit than they are probably comfortable receiving. Raising children is no small task and many, including mine, end up being the only caregivers.
My mother and I lost track of our love for each other over the years. She felt overwhelmed I am sure after the divorce and I felt overwhelmed by her in many ways. But we cannot lose love forever.
I had a dream the other night. A huge boulder of a vault seemed to be shutting the door on my past. I have expressed anger at my mother since coming off the streets and more recently, sorrow, at not being seen as myself since childhood.
But over the last couple of months I have been overcoming a cruel streak I had towards her. There has been some real joy in our relationship lately and when I don’t let my emotions get the best of me, I can treat her as any other human in need of kindness.
My last flower delivery today took me above a small rural town. Everything was so green; wildflowers and horses dotted the countryside.
I say a lot of prayers as I go through my day, talking to Jesus mostly. I like to think he talks back at times through my thoughts. Driving home I had the thought, “Do what you said you were going to do in the first place.” Then I thought, what the hell did I say I was going to do? The next thought was, “Be happy that’s all.”
Family and society can place a lot of expectations on us and I have never been sure what I was doing was the right thing or not. I also felt like I had a lot to prove, me being a 50-year-old man, living in my momma’s basement with no steady income.
Be Happy That’s All!
The thought brought a tear to my eye, what with my past wounds, for the most part, vaulted away, I think I can handle that.
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