Dear Me: Day 128
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Today marks seven years since I lost my adopted mom to liver disease. And I don't have anything truly profound to say about it all today.
The truth is, I made my peace with mom a few months ago. It took me longer than it should have to be sure, but these days I've stopped examining her failings and faults, I've stopped living with the shroud of grief over her loss and accepted that she did the best she could.
She wasn't perfect, but who is? I've reached a point in my life where I can just-- be thankful for the blessings she gave me. One of the biggest being the name of my birth mother, with whom I now have an ever-developing relationship. I'm so blessed that even as I lost one mother-- I was able to reach out and connect with another. Something that was directly due to my adopted mom and her steel-trap memory.
I've stopped letting my painful memories of my relationship with mom hurt me. And instead, I've tried to start finding good ones, finding ways to funnel pain and frustration from our less-than-perfect relationship into the fodder to build better relationships with the family I still have in my life.
I think this is the first year that I've observed this day without feeling the heartbreak of her last few days, without the ache of those days after I lost her.
This year I can say without tears:
I love you mom, I miss you. But I know you're in a better place.
RIP Barbara Jo Philipson
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