Today is a day where the ache feels great and I do not know where it comes from nor understand why old wounds are flaring up right before my eyes.

In all my dealings with pain I should find myself more comfortable with it but no. I don’t. I should find myself more enthused at this opportunity to find cosmos in chaos but I am not. No. Not when the wounds are those I thought have already healed. The wounds lying so vulnerably in the shadows unattended. The wounds of my Mother and Father.

Just thinking about them makes me stumped. I am lost in my own musings and trying to make sense why whenever the issues of their marriage come up, they somehow find a way to make me the issue.

How far is this moment from the healing I thought I was already experiencing while dealing with Mom’s cancer diagnosis?

I feel very alone today. Absent of all solace save for a small image of Padre Pio and a wooden Benedictine cross clutched tightly while I slept through the night and throughout the whole morning because I didn’t want to go out of my room and face even more discomfort.

What makes parents not see their own actions and how they have pained their children?


Popular posts from this blog

The New Year

Lectio Divina | A Reflection on Yehuda Amichai's "The Amen Stone"

Believing to See