We all love our mothers, right? Of course we do, but I consider myself pretty lucky to have mine; or at the very least, the friendship we have. She has seen a lot, has done a lot, and has raised a lot of good boys to become strong men. Yet, to me, she seems to get stronger herself the more the years pass. I have put Gail through many things in her time with me, but now it is not so. It is pride I hear in her voice, strength in my belief, and on her shoulder I many times have found my head. Sometimes, I think it may be her words that flow through my hand, but, no, that would be crazy to think that, right? Right? Meet a little portion of my Mother and tell me if you agree with that or not...I bet you will beg to differ. Here you go, and may you enjoy.
Imagine growing up never being able to see out of your right eye. Now picture yourself, with that "limited" vision, raising four young boys on your own, and learning to understand yourself in the process. She showed us how to laugh at each other, by laughing at her self in the first place...and one day showed me how to laugh at life. Remember that I told you I hurt myself once, but have only hinted at what caused it? There is a reason for that, as there is a reason why I am writing a book in the first place. It is the best way I can ever see fit to honor my Mom, while we are both alive in the same world together, and I know I am allowed the allotted time to do it. How do I know this, you may ask? Some time in the next two years, when my book is published, you will learn why...when it is all said and done, we all are allowed the allotted time to finish what we started, and others of us are just allowed to create their own stories. That would be me, and that would be Gail. Really, people, that would be all of us.
I grew up around her and never took anything from the fact that she was unable to see out of her eye. For that matter, for what I got away with when I was younger, I could of sworn she had two more in the back of her head. It never passed my mind that she was as normal as everyone else; but, she was not normal...she was an angel disguised as my Mother. Seriously, people, there is only one I will ever run to when I am needing solace, when my heart is shattered, or when I just need to hear her voice. I know there are some of you out there who have lost, some who never knew, and even those who met another who became the same. I understand, really I do, because I see it in her eyes when she looks at me. Remember what has come and gone, but be most thankful for what we still have...and that is the life we breath as you now read. Inhale in, exhale out, and just believe. There is a purpose, and there is a care. Once again, how can I be so sure, you may ask? Miracles happen everyday, and I just learned one only yesterday.
We had not talked in a few weeks with me being busy working two jobs, moving to a new abode, and basically being the delinquent son boys can sometimes be. Last night, I listened to her voice, joined with my own at times, but mainly just listened as she told me the news. How her granddaughter stood slightly out of sight of her right eye, waving her hand, and how my Mother was able to actually see her do it. That, no, it is not anywhere near complete quite yet, but that it is there at all is a miracle in itself. The tears came, followed by thankful thoughts, and, once again, I am overtaken by the power of my life. How it flows through the ups and downs, and how it takes the time to show me that the way is lit; and that the path is true. Not that it didn't matter to me about her sight before, but more so now, that the next time we meet it will be with both our eyes. We are all held in the palm, people, and remember that when things seem at their worst, and when they move too fast. Know that this too will pass, and another door will soon open that was even better than the last. If Gail is experiencing this now, then my years in life can only get better the more days I put into it. A day in is a day in. Until we meet again people, until we meet again.
"Youth fades; love droops, the leaves of friendship fall; a Mother's secret hope outlives them all." - Oliver Wendell Holmes
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