Thinking back, I wouldn’t change a thing. In my life, there were moments of sorrow, worry, and even despair. But there were also moments of peace and happiness.
If there were no darkness, I would never be able to appreciate the light. So, I’m thankful for everything I’ve been through—good and bad.
The other day, I felt the impulse to look at some old family photos and read through the diary I kept during a very turbulent time in my life.
The following entry is from six years ago:
I wish my five-year-old son were lucky enough to have met my adorable mother—a loving mother and my best friend. And I wish he could get his grandpa back—the way he used to be during the first years of my son’s life. My little boy always talks about his grandpa. And after every visit, he remembers the happy moments of the past: “Mom, do you remember when grandpa was able to walk, and we did this or that? Do you remember when grandpa used to sing to me or tell me stories?”
Every time I hear the wistfulness and sadness in my little boy’s voice is as if someone shoves a knife right through my heart. I feel the same way with him and try to remember only the happy moments. It’s so hard to let go.
How can you explain to a five-year-old that his grandpa does not remember the happy moments they shared anymore? And even worse—how can you explain that his grandpa might not remember him anymore?
I felt the need to share the above entry with you all, my friends and readers. I know that some of you might have been through similar situations and can relate to my feelings. And those of you—fortunate enough to have your parents in your life—cherish every moment you spend with them, because when that moment is gone…is gone forever.
Post a Comment