Faith’s Letters to Her Mother: BLESSED
BLESSED
Audio
Dear Runaway Mother:
I went to see dad yesterday. After everything that has happened I needed to be with someone who doesn’t know all my sins. It was a good day. He knew who I was. Even through the Alzheimer’s fog he knew I was hurting. He took my hand between his and said: Let it be, Faith. Life is like a canoe. It always comes right side up again.
When I got home I picked up the phone and called you on the spur of the moment. Remember the person who said nothing at all – just dead air until you hung up. That was me. I suddenly realized I had no idea what to say to you. Imagine that – me speechless.
We do have one thing in common. The frost in your bones when you realize your life has changed in a heartbeat. You must have felt that when you made your great escape from us. I felt it when I saw that man dying at the Rave and couldn’t help him.
Runaway mother, I’m going to have to cash in my chips and start over. A month or two to steer Youth Voice through this hurricane I created. Then I walk away from the organization I built, from the vision I created and from the first man I ever really loved. Like the Littlest Hobo trotting down the road at the end of an episode.
I should feel like crap but I don’t. What I’m feeling is guilt and regret on the one hand and a sense of breaking free on the other. And yes, a need to take stock of my life.
On the you messed up side of the ledger: The Raves are toast. Youth Voice’s permit has been yanked and there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell of getting it back anytime soon. But that’s small potatoes next to the fact that a man’s life was snatched away.
On the blessing in disguise side: I fell in love, really in love, for the first time. I took the risk I’ve always shied away from and, even though it didn’t work out, I feel blessed. Now I know that I’m capable of throwing caution to the wind where my heart is concerned.
Bottom line is if I had it to do all over again, knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t do a whole lot different. I just wouldn’t push so hard so fast and I’d take some time to count my blessings along the way.
So, runaway mother, the burning question is still: Do I want to meet you?