She Died Today
Today she died. The woman I have struggled to forgive for so long. She slipped away in her sleep after a short battle with the cancer inside her. How should I feel about this? She hadn’t been a part of my life for years now. I heard of her doings and the venom and divisions she continued to sew among her sons and others vicariously through my own children who, although she was their grandmother, went on with the busyness of their day as if they’d heard only that a stranger had died; her passing merely a footnote in our lives.
Yet, those days of her control over my now ex-husband and my children keep swimming to the surface of the pond I tried to drown them in. The words she said while wearing a Madonna-like smile. The knife-like words she’d used to cut mother from children, wife from husband still sending concentric circles through my soul. So much lost, so many possibilities that ended up on her cutting room floor.
I had called her Jezebel, Witch, and Hypocrite in all of those days when I craved the return of my life from before. But, was that fair? Have I never tried to see my own part in the drama? Why didn’t I walk around in her Sunday shoes and try on the faith that she professed, if only to catch a glimpse of the me that she saw. I could have. I should have; and I should have done it much sooner than today because, she died today.
I forgive, I forgive, I forgive. Is it too late?