Crying on Mother’s Day seems like a good thing. It is the place I find myself. A hard year complete. I got to spend a few hours with some of my children and a little bit of time with my mother. Brilliant. I spent time alone too. Pensive. But Dylan, my dog of almost three years, needed attention too.
While the time away from my kids is irretrievably lost, I choose not to hate the person who instigated such separation. Evil has not place in this heart, no matter how hard it might be not to lash out.
I wonder and ponder. I cry. I hope. It is better to feel than to drink away choices.
Someday, I hope for their sakes that life does not overwhelm them with bad experiences of understanding.