The totes were stuffed full of almost every imaginable thing. She’d been goin through them one at a time for sever all weeks because doing so all at once was way too daunting. It wasn’t easy digging through the envelopes of paid bills, doctors information, letters from social security, bill collectors, cards, letters from friends and family and more.
She’d recently sorted through the tote that held the cherished antique photos of her grandparents, two, one from their early days and a much later one after life had it them hard. These photos would soon hang on her wall in special remembrance.
Today she’d opened the tote that held her very own baby clothes wrapped up in paper and placed in a plastic bag as if trying to protect them. She also found two of her baby bottles, one glass and one hard plastic. Both still had the black ring and stopper though no nipple. And her baby shoes. An old cloth diaper and diaper pins. Oh and she’d been so delighted when she pulled several articles of clothing from her early childhood years. Only one piece had been store bought, the others either hand sewn or machine stitched.
And she even found her baby book with information of her birth. That was a special treasure! There was her name written in pencil by her mother all those many years ago.
This discovery was shocking to the woman who was now going through these items tryin to decide what to keep and what to toss. Truthfully and sadly, this woman all her life had wondered if her mother really loved and cared about her. Now that truth seemed to point in the direction of affirmative.
During the reading of old letters the daughter had discovered secrets her mother shared of her many years of sexual abuse by a close family member. This had been the hardest for the daughter to read and absord about her own mother. The daughter had herself suffered various forms of childhood abuse at the hands of this one perpetrator. The cycle had continued.
For many years the daughter had fought with her mother, mainly wanting, no needing her mother to love and protect her from those pawing, prodding hands but that never happened. Now the daughter better understood that very possibly the mother simply did not know how to do so. Her own mother hadn’t protected her.
These new revelations softened the daughters heart towards her mother. Oh, no, it certainly didn’t excuse the mothers liability in not having fully protected her daughter. It did, however, help the daughter better understand her mother: A woman who at a young age was raped by this man and the abuse continued many years!
Now her mother resides in a nursing home, often times drifting into her own world. The daughter prays that the world her mother may be a part of is one full of sunshine and wildflower and butterflies and laughter.
Finally the load seems somehow lighter that she, the daughter, had been carrying concerning her mother and the lack of love she’d felt all her life. Now the daughter was more able to release that burden and let it drift away.
Now even more healing could take place within the depths of the daughter. Now peace had more room to reside within the daughters heart.
Forgiveness was at work here.
Pamela Richards-Woodall 