Why I Go There: Remembering My Mother

by T landrum • More.com Member { View Profile }

I go there even if I don’t know why. I go there when I’m happy. I go there when I’m sad. I go there when I am worried. I go there when I’m angry. I go there when I’m concerned about something totally out of my control. At first, it seemed that I was going there for a specific purpose. Now, my 2002 sleek black vehicle just takes me there. Many times I just find myself on the busy, black asphalt behind a large truck. As we come to a stop, I am always aware of traffic, even when I’m not completely aware of my surroundings. Sometimes I want to take something special when I go there. Sometimes it seems enough just to bring myself and my concern, worry, joyfulness, anger, or sadness.

I know that I am never expected. Or am I? Does she know that I am approaching? I don’t know. At least I am definitely not sure. Does she know when I arrive? Who knows? I certainly don’t know. Does she feel my presence? I think so. I certainly don’t know for sure. Does she know when I leave? I don’t know, but I know that I feel more serene and settled when I leave. I am no longer angry, sad, joyful, worried, or concerned. I just am. It is like she took away the immediacy of any of what I was feeling and replaced it with being. She seems to have replaced all of what I was feeling with an overwhelming feeling of love. She seems to have replaced what I came with for something greater. She seems to have somehow reminded me of who I really am.

I will continue to go there, even though I don’t know why. I know that she really isn’t at the home where I left her on October 17, 2005. I think to myself as I smile while driving away. She is by my side as I am driving my 2002 sleek black vehicle down that busy, dark asphalt road. She guides me to where I left her on that beautiful blue soft puffy- cloud day, because she knows that I need to think that when I stop by to visit I can talk over my feelings with her. I am still not sure just why I go to visit my mother’s grave when I am feeling something that I can’t explain to anyone else. I think she listens.

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