Even from the grave

 It's amazing the things that can bother us even after a person has passed away. Most days I am fine.  But on those days that I am not it feels like there is a lead balloon in my soul.  My mother acted in ways that were not kind and said things that were often not true about me. I don't even want to imagine the things that she said to those that were around her.  I could tell by their silence towards me, that it wasn't good.  Everyone contacted my brother, flooded him with all the praise.  I got nothing, no condolences no nothing.  Since she passed away, the words that she wrote, things that she stated towards me have broken my heart into millions of little pieces.  I find myself every now and then thinking of her wishing for warm thoughts and kind memories, but right now I can't see through the hurt.  That was always the problem when she was alive.  She could never understand how I saw things or where I was coming from. She was never willing to acknowledge her part in the awful things that happened to me. She could never acknowledge the person that I was, and who I was becoming. She could never acknowledge the person that I was because of the things that happened to me.  She wanted me to forget, sweep it all under the carpet and pretend that all was well with the world.  For me, none of those things were an option. 

I was everything the opposite of what she wanted.  So many things I will never understand.  I thought by now some of the things that I have learned she said, would no longer hurt.  But they do, they still are like a knife.  I was even looking back at a memory that came up on my phone, and she said that I had a peace breaking spirit. What? ME?  I have a peace breaking spirit?  I can remember the day that I read those words like it was yesterday and today they hurt just the same. It was an email that she had written, and she left it out on the dining room table.  I hard cried, the kind of cry where your shoulders shake, and you can't catch your breathe. I read it over and over thinking that surely, she wasn't talking about me.  Yes, she was, and I truly believe that she meant those words.  How dare she say that, how dare she send it in an email. How dare she leave it on the table. It's like she meant to leave it on the table as a stake through my heart. There are so many questions that I want to ask, why did she think that what did I do.  But all of those words are useless, there will never be any answers to satisfy the hurt. 

Just so so many hurtful things.  When I clean out the rest of her things, I am just throwing things away no need to find anything else.  It has been made very clear, how little that I meant to her. So many blaring examples, and still they hurt.  Crazy that even though she has passed on, her words cut.  I guess that's the thing, I am not sad that she has passed away.  For me the main emotion is relief.  The sad is because I want to want to miss my mom.   I miss all the things that I didn't get, I miss the mom that I didn't have, that is what I miss.  Just a moment, as time passes, I hope the feelings will become less sharp. I hope that good happy things fill the spaces where there is so much pain and hurt. 

I heart your heart.