Every time my friends talked about how challenging their own mother was, it sparked anger in me. I said “at least you have a mother”. I was angry. How could she leave us so soon and at such an important time?
Over the years (21) the struggle lessened. I became less angry and my pain less acute. There are some days, like today, when randomly the hurt becomes acute again. I don’t know why or wherefore that the hurt just bubbles up within me.
I wish that there was a comforting thought or prayer to make it go away, but there is not. It just is.