You are allowed to have feelings!  The good, the bad, the ugly.  Don’t feel bad about having them.  They kept you alive.  Feeling the things you thought your mother would approve of and bring connection, well, maybe they did because, although you could not see it, maybe she actually approved of you being like her in her own weird way – a way that showed the opposite of approval.  Imagine how much worse if you’d felt and behaved the opposite ways to your mother’s examples.  Some people cannot show approval to their children.  They think it weakens them.  One day your mother will have to reconcile her life in this world.  Whether it be with God, or whatever comes at the end, I believe we all have a reckoning.  I don’t look forward to mine; mainly because I am so worried about my pride getting in the way of my accepting my failings.  I’ll say it again, your mother should be ashamed of herself, much more than ashamed, she should be beside herself with remorse.

“all this gratitude and emotion for a moment of me acknowledging your hurt…”

I started weeping again.  I’ve been so caught up in things lately I’ve forgotten to sit with an emotion and let it flow through me.  I took time this time, time to allow myself the deep hurt I feel over your kindness and understanding.  You’ve given me a gift, one that hurts and heals, I think.  It’s not your fault it hurts, it’s my hurt, and it’s being allowed by not expecting me to get over it.

“I am motivated to try and write you another poem sometime in the next few days, would it be okay with you?”

That is so thoughtful.  Thank you.

Isn’t the world a smaller place when we can be friends across oceans?  Back in the olden days, when I was a child and an adult, we wrote letters.  They took weeks to get there, sometimes months if the postal service stuffed up and sent them surface mail, or they got lost.  I used to write to my mother, letters full of the things I thought were important, letters full of words and thoughts my friend had because I thought she was amazing.  My mother showed them to me a few years ago, with a snide comment about their content, and I read them quite in amazement.  They were exactly how my friend spoke.  But I was in them too, a boy I liked, my shock at a girl in my class having sex…

“Sad Soul’s Son, tell mom why, tell her just as it is.
If you can, please tell her.
She bought orange and poppy seed cake yesterday, tasted like casserole.
I bet she she’ll bake the best cake ever for you, mother’s love seeds in cake, if you come over for a talk
Separate truth from lies, Sad Soul’s Son; see your mother as she is, see your father, your friend as they are
See yourself
Tell mom what’s in your mind and heart, tell her, she’ll listen, she will not argue
She wants to know, she needs to know, Please talk to her. Tell her your truth.”

I finally read these lines slowly and surely.  They are so precious to me.

My love for my children has evolved for each one of them as they grow up.  I love the older ones in a more .. separated? .. way.  I love this one that has left in a different way to how I loved little boy him, or baby him.  I loved him in a more little boy way just before him leaving.  He’s not a boy anymore, and I missed all that happening, he’s a young man now.  I’d been preparing and evolving emotionally as he’d been moving into his adult self, more conscientiously than with the others as he was the last one left, but I did not expect it to all be ripped away.  I thought he’d start walking his adult life in stages and I’d get to walk beside him when he needed me.  We’d be friends / mother and son, as he matured.  He used to say he was never going to leave home, never leave me, that I had to go with him wherever he went.  I knew that was a little boy talking, but it made him all the more precious.  Instead it’s totally different.  I think I am mourning the loss of him as I knew him too.  I’m just sprouting forth words and words and words and my sore heart.  Sorry.

Sad Soul, Special Soul, is it a tear in your eye that I see? Wasted time, wasted efforts, starting Alone, ending Alone, is this your story? Is this my story? Is this the story of all humanity? Four questions above, I don’t get to ask anymore (so says the critic in my mind) Sad Soul, Special Soul, see my soul see your soul You are not alone; I am not alone Son left unexpectedly, so sorry, Mother Sad Soul Sad Soul’s Son, tell mom why, tell her just as it is. If you can, please tell her. She bought orange and poppy seed cake yesterday, tasted like casserole. I bet she she’ll bake the best cake ever for you, mother’s love seeds in cake, if you come over for a talk Separate truth from lies, Sad Soul’s Son; see your mother as she is, see your father, your friend as they are See yourself Tell mom what’s in your mind and heart, tell her, she’ll listen, she will not argue She wants to know, she needs to know, Please talk to her. Tell her your truth. 

No one has ever written me a poem.  I cried again.  You’ve given me somethings in these writings that I’ve never had.

And now for a thought for you:  you are kind and generous.  I hope there are other kind generous people in your life to appreciate you.  I’m very glad we have made contact on this forum.  I look forward to reading at the beginning / middle / end of each day 🙂

I was thinking lemon tea cake, with lemony goodness drizzled over it, but if that doesn’t float your boat I have chocolate cake and ginger slice.  There you go, a real little party.

Oh how tired I am.  I want to sleep for days.

My mother came up in conversation today, I couldn’t help myself, the women at work were complaining about their mothers texting them Happy Morning with smilie emojis.  I told them once they’ve had a mother who says xxx xxx xxx like mine they will have some perspective on getting nice text messages from theirs.  Oh how people can be so horrid.  But then, I suppose it all depends on your perspective:  if you’ve had an evil mother you desperately want one to text you nice messages and get a bit upset when you don’t reply for days; if you had a nice one I suppose it’s annoying to have to keep a track of.

Which brings me to my children who are so busy with their lives and events I feel like I’m the mother texting hello and they don’t reply for weeks.  I try very hard to be happy they’re so whole in themselves and their lives they don’t cling to me.  Because I’m alone and there’s nothing much filling my life.

Regarding the aloneness you were talking about it your topic.  I used to be terrified of being alone, literally my heart pounded, sweating, shaking, utter fear, the whole night long when I first lived alone.  I had every light on in the house and I was terrified.  Till one night a few years on, desperately exhausted from not being able to sleep, I closed my eyes and prayed if someone came to murder me it was quick and I didn’t hear it coming.

That fear evolved into loneliness rather than fear, and a few other emotions in between, till these days I’m not afraid of being alone.  I don’t feel too lonely and mostly when I do I recognise I don’t have the energy to do anything about it.  I’m also a square peg in a round hole so I don’t make friends all that easily.  I think I’m too serious and probably a bunch of other things, but I struggle with fluff.

Oh well, best get on with things.  Something waits for no man, can’t remember what it is that doesn’t wait, but that saying sprang to mind lol.

I started reading the bible a few months ago. I’m really upset that so much of it seems to be so wrong. When I google the meaning of passages, because I’m so horrified they’re so awful, the explanations seem to just be people trying to fit their ideas into justifying the wrongness of it, not actual educated logical explanations. Occasionally there’s some educated person who makes an explanation on the nuance of the translation that could have been incorrectly made, but mostly it’s just people trying to make wrong into right. I’m so confused because I was hoping to find solace and peace in the bible. Instead I’m finding my faith is shaking, finding myself praying that one day the real meaning is revealed when the end comes.

Today I woke up sick and I’ve slowly slid into a pool of misery. I’ve really struggled this week, really really really.

I read your other topic. I sometimes wonder if we found someone to love and accept us as completely as our mothers would it help. A surrogate mother. Except I’m so old now and I don’t think another human should have to try to take on my hurts.

<p style=”text-align: left;”>Would you like ham and pineapple or pepperoni and all the things? They heat up alright in a very pan, who would have thought?</p>
I hope he gets through whatever it is he needs to be doing. I’m scared of him hurting his health or himself. He was a fragile person for a few years, and his stupid father added to that with his judgemental ways and expectations. I have no idea at all how he is and sometimes I get really worried.

I believe in God, don’t know how but I do, and I pray when it gets really bad. To wrap him up in love and give him whatever he needs, even if me in his life isn’t what he needs. Yeah, sometimes I also pray where are you God?

…also biscuits help 😂