Posted by: krittikae | August 30, 2012

Back, Maybe…

I haven’t wanted to write anything in a while. I wasn’t inspired to write except in my journal. The last time I typed out one of my mom’s journal entries was nearly a year ago – someone thought that someone else would take offense to something my mom wrote about. So I was asked to edit my mother’s words. I chose to make that post private instead, but it made me want to take a break.

Since then, we’ve had a roller coaster with Dad’s health and well being. He got an apartment, wrecked his car, had eye surgery…. my sisters are taking care of Dad as well as they can I think, but you can tell they’re frustrated by it. I wish I could do something to help, but what can I do? I work 16 hour days in order to just barely pay our bills. Sometimes I can’t buy food. I can’t send money. I live 1600 miles away. I can’t pick Dad up for his appointments. Would you like me to call and quizz you over the phone to find out every single detail? If I thought that would help, I would. But then again, those darn 16 hour days. I’d call you about midnight. That’s when I get home.

I always had a pretty good relationship with my Mom. I’m fully aware of what my mother did, and what she was accused of doing, but I’ve decided that it doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t change the way she behaved towards me. It doesn’t change who I knew her to be. I was lucky. I knew both my parents loved me and were proud of me. I got to know my Mom very well, as a child and as an adult. We’d hang out and have fun. We had the same cackling laugh. It was hard to watch her get sick, and it was awful to lose her, but I’m not angry at her for anything. Mom lived a life full of contradictions, but in her own way, she loved everyone in it. It might not have been the way you expected to be loved, or the way you would have chosen, but sometimes you don’t choose. Sometimes you just need to love a person for what they are, not what you want them to be.

So I’ve decided to continue my mom’s journal, whenever I have time. And I won’t spare anyone’s feelings. I won’t edit her. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. Don’t tell others to read it. She was my mom, for better or worse. These were her thoughts. If I were to edit them to try to spare someone’s feelings, it’s like I’d be rewriting history. You know what? Mom wasn’t always nice. Sometimes she’d say or write or think mean things. Sometimes I do too. That doesn’t mean I don’t love the people in my life. I hope someday people will find enough value in my words to not want to rewrite me.

I’d prefer to remember things like they were – rather than trying to remember only the best.


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