My mother took her first breath in the same room where she drew her last one. Because of that, I developed my understanding of the circular patterns in life. Everything is a circle, even the universe. Filled with circles are we.
I don’t often think of my mother but when I do, it’s filled with an intense amount of sadness. It’s a case of Catch-22: I repress because of sadness and sadness remains because I repress.
Throughout the years, I’ll allowed bits and pieces and unresolved issues to bob to the surface… Recently, I tackled the idea of illness. Part of me was so afraid of her illness that I felt it start to take over me, in unexpected ways. Not only did I think we were doomed to the same destiny, I also felt afraid of everything.
One thing’s for sure— true love will equip you with the stare down any foe, even the most monstrous. With love holding you steady, you can defiantly watch these enemies diminish into nothingness. I am a champion of my love, because he has made me a braver woman in so many ways.
My mind falls back on my mother who was not brave. She was flawed, as we all are, but her flaws were incredibly exploited, because she had no shield of true love.
What a complicated matter.
