Breaking the Silence

"If you haven't got anything good to say, don't say anything at all."

You're welcome.

My head has been all over the place. My thoughts have been more places than that. I've been ruminating, reflecting, remembering and trying to make sense of what comes to the surface. Honestly? I think it's growing pains. Again.

I'm tired of "growing".

Presently, I seem to be going through the phase where everything speaks to me. I can be watching the most inane television comedy and there is a nugget of information I am ready to hear. I can watch almost any video that "Goalcast" publishes on Facebook and I hear something that resonates with me. I can pick up a book and put my hands on the information I knew I had read before but forgot where it was.

I am enjoying this phase of enlightenment after some rather dark days.

I spent my four day long weekend at home. Alone. Alone with Mom's books, Netflix and my Goalcast feed on Facebook.

I "saw" our cats again. I was still enough to appreciate their sense of humor, their sense of catness and I fully appreciated enjoying watching where the term "copy cat" originated.

Most would say I wasted an entire weekend. Normally, I would tend to agree. But not this time.

I wanted to run. I wanted to find "quiet". I wanted to be still and distance myself from life. I considered running away to some kind of retreat. But there was no need to run. My oasis is located very conveniently under our very own roof.

I wasn't brave enough to face winter driving conditions. I had no desire to leave our home. I didn't want to run. I wanted to stay home and find comfort in all that surrounds me here.

I started my weekend journey at home by scanning the titles of Mom's books. She had been rereading Margaret Trudeau's books and had commented on how she enjoyed them. So that is exactly where I began.

I could have started and stopped there and it would have been enough. "The" book I was meant to read was in my hands. I found my road map.

I wasn't ready to absorb words before this. I could take in a few but I felt like a saturated sponge. I could take in only little bits at a time. Words, tears and emotions kept finding their way out of me, with little room to take in anything of value.

I have been unable to remove or relocate the papers and places where Mom has left indications of where she "last left off" that I have found within Mom's books. I made my way to her book about Mother Teresa, to find the order packing slip marking her spot. Mom had ordered the book from her local bookstore and Feb 26th, 2008 was the date it was packed up and sent. Almost exactly ten years ago...

Whispers of Mom's presence are everywhere within her books. The words I have found within them are like finding salve for a wound.

I feel more grounded. I am less fearful. I am stronger. I am wading through the mire and I believe I see a dry shore ahead.

I am missing a piece to the puzzle which is my life. I want to fill the void but not at the expense of altering the overall picture.

I'm searching. I'm filling myself up. I am not eager to push my way out of this cocoon but nature is stronger than I. I am destined to emerge. When I do, I will be stronger than I was before all of this began.

I'm redefining myself. I will always be my mother's daughter. But I will not always have Mom to urge me forward. My new definition of myself has changed.

It's happened before. It will happen again. I just hope I enjoy my new wings once I break free of all that is holding me, keeping me safe and cocooning me away from the year past.

"...behind all your stories is always your mother's story, because hers is where yours begins."
- Mitch Albom, For One More Day

I've listened to Mom's stories my entire life. This is where mine begins...