It’s fourth of July weekend, Sunday and I woke up this morning with one image in my mind. My mother’s face as we stood in conversation. In her kitchen, so it must have 2004 sometime, probably in the summer. I don’t remember what the conversation was about, or why she chose to say it to me then, but remember staring into her face after she said it, “If I had known what you would have to go through, I never would have had you.”
You would think those words would have a bad affect on me, but really as I stood staring at her I understood why she was saying what she said. I think it was the nearest thing to an apology she could give at the time, or maybe not, who knows.
I remember only about a year later she told me she was proud of me for the first time. It was my birthday. I was 36 years old. It was around the time I asked her, if she had to describe me, what would she say. Her answer was that I was quick to smile, which surprised me for reasons I am not sure.
In the last lucid conversation that I had with my mother before she died, she said to me, “I am sorry if I ever hurt you.” I said “It’s ok.”
I don’t know why I woke with these thoughts in my mind this morning, or why they have stuck with me all day, but they have and here I am writing down so that maybe it will at rest.