I Should Have Told You

Dear Mom,

Years have past since I've seen your face. The last time I talked with you we both said things we wish had been left unsaid, but in the moment we used words like ammunition. I knew which words hurt you the most, the ones that dug deeper than any bullet could. We screamed and yelled at one another until I was sure that I had won, reveling in your silence. Mom, it has now been years since I have seen you face and I find myself missing it more each day.

In my childish days, plagued by my childish ways, I always thought that you were an instrument of limitation, an obstacle to be hurdled. How could I not see your proud gaze? How could I not feel your helping hand. Perhaps it was both you and I who lay at fault, me for not perceiving and you for not being able to be perceived. Still, I find the guilt weighs more on me with each passing day as I think back to the times you held me. Tears would well at the bottoms of each my eyes and being the awkward, scrawny person that I was, I would push you away. Then, I had always assumed you wanted the other children to make fun of me. Now I realize you wanted me to learn it was okay to show emotion and vulnerability, no matter who was watching.

I think back to the times you encouraged me. Feeling proud I would present my accomplishments to you, each time you would inquire whether I believe I had done my best. Then, I had always assumed you wanted me to do better. Now I realize you only wanted me to feel content with the work I produced, you wanted me to learn how to put one hundred percent of my effort into the things that I do.

Possibly a fault of your harsh upbringing, a past riddled with pain and anxieties, you always investigated my intentions. As an awkward teen, my plans and outings were never a thing for discussion in my mind. Then, I assumed you would be mad at me for the things I intended to do with friends. Now I understand you only wanted to know that I was safe. How foolish I had been. How childish my actions.

With great embarrassment these all led to our fight those many years back. Then, I had assumed you wanted to control me and although that may partially be true, I never understood how that came to be. I never understood that unlike me, you suffered a childhood where you never learned to show emotion or vulnerability. You never learned to put one hundred percent of your effort into everything you do. And most critically, you never had anyone who cared that you were safe. What I seemed to have failed to understand in my childish days is that I should have let you know I learned how to show my vulnerability because of you. That I put one hundred percent effort into everything I do, because of you. That I always cared about whether or not you were safe. Mom, the thing that I have kept from you for so long is that I did love you, that I still love you. It's hard for me, standing here by your gravestone and telling you all this now. I wish that in your final days you knew that I had learned so much from you. You were not like your parents who neglected you, who hurt you. You loved me, you cared if I was safe, you taught me how to thrive. Mom, I'll always carry these parts of you deep within me, deeper than you had ever wounded me or I you. I'll carry these parts with me and pass then on to my own children, I'll pass them on knowing that in a way, they have met their grandmother.

Happy Mother's Day,

Love, JerBear