A ‘short fuse’ with Mom this week. And admitting that seems so screwed up to me. What reason or excuse can there be to act out on someone who is helpless over their cognitive state? I was sharing a bit about it with Marjory today and she said: “Breaking news: you’re not perfect. And even worse… you’re human.”
I am not a flexible, open vessel taking one monent, one phone call at the time. I feel a pressure to make things right when I go to Mom’s. In my broken trauma responses and from a long, active addiction and a slow recovery process, I somehow created a ‘savior’ role in Mom’s life. Hard to undo with Self and Mom. I know better and I want to do better. If I slow down, get more prayed-up, practice stillness daily, I’ll be better equipped for sure.
Hey Mom, I love you. Why is there all this ‘stuff’ (still) strewn amid all that love?
Faith & Roses 
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