A Time to Mourn
And I thought I was already on my way to moving on…Today I am wearing the pair of pants that mommy often thought of as hers. This pair caused mom so much misery as for one, it had once been my only pair of pants tht could afford me a decent day at school and work, and two, there came a point when exchanging clothes with her became an issue due to her incontinence.
And earlier, as I greedily forked my way through my sweet spaghetti from the posh building cafeteria, I had to hold back a tear upon remembering how many times I immersed myself in indulgences when back at home, my mom was suffering from an extreme physical pain one could only imagine.
Just how many times did I complain of the searing sun on my way to work and the freezing cold in my workplace when back at home, I never did once place a thought on how mommy must had been feeling alone, immersed in sweat and urine, fanned by the old electric fan, in her big and smelly bed, under an oven that we have been, for a very long time, calling "home"?
Just how many times did I refuse mommy of her only luxury of removing her soiled diapers for the selfish reason that the relatively expensive diaper could be soiled not just once but twice or even thrice over?
Just how many times did I selfishly choose to watch my favorite shows in the living room television instead of watching these in the master’s bedroom where I could have had the opportunity of accompanying mom during her times of loneliness and distress?
This is my time of grieving and mourning. No. Not for mom. But for myself who should have had, would have had, could have had. Regret… my greatest fear. My greatest failure.
Forgive myself? Move on?
Too soon, Precious. Too soon.
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(picture from http://www.hrw.org/iff-99/images/regret.jpg)
