PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

She would have never expected a phone call so out of the blue like that; nor had she known the significance in the ability it took for me to make that call and the one that proceeded that month on Thanksgiving eve. Forgiveness is such a fragile concept. Imagina being of innocence and bliss, a life of love and ignorance, then finding truths about life as the oposite and your mind is forced to open (with acceptance of reality). I wanted nothing more than for our relationship to be that of the movies, Gilmore Girls to be specific. Our youth together was friendship, family and the gift of being able to have a loving mother. But after 18 years the tables began to turn. Time and space created too much distance from our core values and true selves. After years of not knownig the stranger in the pictures, or the voice over the phone- disassociation was growing, memory was at loss. Her story is a grand one of that on its' own- that woman's got some strength. But I think now she's learned to transform that into a more balanced spectrum of her life. Shortly after (what in my mind was one of my mother's worst years in her life) there great a new light within. That of a sort that radiates in a way that would get a stranger to smile at first glance. A warm energy soon surrounded this woman I used to know. My mother had been saved. Forgiveness became natural as time slipped into new memories and moments worth remembering. There came a year when I realized that memories were all I had (to take with me, everytime I left). Unfortunately, even sobriety can't compare to that of the timeless moments before a heart transplant, and the true realization of how fragile life and memory truly is. Acceptance. I had to accept it was all worth it. When she was home on the mend, I could tell when she thought of me and rang he little 'blessing bell' I left with her at the hospital, attached to a stuffed animal lion. We told each-other, promised by love, that we would be connected by our angel. Thoughts of healing, sobriety and the daily battles against health complications and addiction- passed through my mind as I was living 1,300 miles away with a family of a past I come from in a time only she used to know. But none the less we both experienced life and moved foreward. Our healing journey aligned another year later at 2 am after I woke from what felt like an annual nightmare. One very troublesome dream, searching and when I woke, this time she was there; but not yet as a mother. She was there visiting her mother's home too, restless and awake at 2am I came to her in need of healing. "I hurt, I hurt and I'm sorry I hurt you." We held hands and spoke these words as though in a mantra until the warmth turned it into prayer. Though I was the one who awoke crying those words, it was when she too spoke them with me that after almost a decade, those were the words I needed to hear. We finally sat face to face and got to say "I'm Sorry". Forgiveness, that lasted as fuel to her strength, though when she saugh out love she turned again to the drugs. Forgiveness, acceptance, strength, sobriety, everyday she still tries, still I give her my honesty, still she is a mother and still I sit in my room in ambiance of music reflecting on all of this (reflection and self healing we've learned over the recent years). Full of excitement I got the text messages as the books and journals were in transit to me. I had called her a couple weeks ago while walking around a really cool book strore in my new city, after my new boyfriends' father bestowed us with a selection of various scriptures and books of prayer. It seemed like a fitting balance of a request to have recieved gifts from a father figure on one side and gifts of equivilance from a mother figure on the other side of this new relationship. One that requires awareness of forgiveness such as this- in order to move forward with a light heart in healing. With one unexpected call at an unexpected time, the gesture was later led to another heartfelt call, one of peace and truth. It was Thanksgiving eve on my way home from work along a dark country road drive home. Forgiveness granted me the peace in stillness of my heart and mind. That's when I picked up the phone and said "Thank You. Thank you for finding the strength and the light to be my mother again, thank you for sending me books of your growth and healing- showing me you are perservering through so I can once again see-you. Now, I sit surrounded by the blessing of these books and the understanding that truth and time are remedy to heal all wounds. It's only when we surrender and give forgiveness (within ourselves and those we hope to find it within too) with all due acceptance that life will continue to play it's course. It is up to each of us to create the strength within to truly find pure intention to live. Many people may relate to my mother and my story thus far, our experiences as we've walked alone and together (no matter the distance). There was a gift of greatness that granted my mother each next day after that surgery, after her sobriety. A gift that led to moments like this- where I feel the need to express my truth and like a blessing, my phone rings. My mother. I tell her how I'm writing these words, how I want to remind her again how her strength has helped guide with a new light. I told her how the forgiveness we've made is something so many people don't get to give unto their last day. And for all of those who've felt our pain, we prayed. In a moment of simpathy and silence we pray. For those who are reading this, still- looking for closure, we say "I hurt and I hurt and I'm sorry I hurt you... But I still love you." Miranda Baron and Katherine Baron-Potter