From Journal Entry 4/20/25
I'm at the nursing home where my mom lives. I feel her sadness, fear, and loneliness. She walks over to me and asks, "Will you hold me?" I hold her reassuring her she's loved.
It was Easter morning when I had this dream. At dawn, my boyfriend and I hiked up Cloud 9. We did a ceremony and I did a meditation. I could not stop thinking about my mom. So I sent her love and I cried. Not so much for me, but for her.
My mom may have not been the loving mom I craved growing up. I can count on one hand the number of times she said I love you. She was very unstable emotionally and mentally. It took a toll on me as a child and left wounds that I'm still healing from.
It wasn't 'til I was an adult and had my own kids did I begin to understand how hard she had it growing up. And how she was just repeating the same abusive behavior as her mother.
Over the years I've had dreams about my mom. Three months before she ended up in the nursing home I had a dream she fell at home. I was so concerned that I called my brother. He had a hard time getting a hold of her at first (he lives 2 1/2 hours away). When he did finally get a hold of her, she was fine.
Two months later, she had fallen multiple times, and was in the hospital unable to walk. I knew she was scared so I made a trip to see her in June 2024. I took my daughter (she only met her once before).
Since then, I see my mom differently. She's not the monster that I made her out to be. I have compassion for her. I see her as a little girl... wanting to be held and loved. I use to ignore her repetitive phone calls. Now when she calls, I'll answer. I know she just needs to hear my voice to feel better. I know her life didn't go how she planned. She's full of disappointments and I don't want to be another one on her list.
I've promised myself that I would make time to see her more often. She's 76 and maybe has 10 more birthdays and holidays to celebrate. It feels different when you put it in that perspective.
I know how hard it can be to forgive and let go. But the wounds I carry have served me. I'm a stronger, deeper woman because of my mom. I have more compassion and sympathize with those that have endured abuse. My hope now is that we all work on healing our wounds and learn to embrace our experiences and see them in a new light.
