Years ago I wrote an article for The Santa Fe Reporter entitled 'The Intensity of The Moments' and it was a look at the experience of being in a homeless shelter and having a homeless mother. I am no longer and neither is my mother I believe. She has come to terms with her troubled life and now reads The Word as her saving grace until her final days.
But there is another part that was untold. It was that even though I'd gone through such an intense experience and have had to endure the agony of thinking about my mother's situation, when I began to 're-enter' society, it was another phase of intense moments and experience. And it hasn't slowed down either. Things became wild after I gave up the streets. I began reading again, voraciously, that childhood passion resurfacing again. I began to work, a lot, a lot, and a lot! I began writing and speaking again. People came into my life and everything changed. Things got better. But I had greater lessons to learn and greater challenges to resolve.
I've only written about her in my journals which may be published someday. She was with me for 12 years. It was a beautiful and tragic love journey. We were both exhausted at the end. No longer could we continue fighting and breaking each other's hearts. Perhaps I need to write about it. Write about her. One day I will. For now I will thank her because she taught me the greatest lessons I've learned to this day.
I tried to contact her the other day after a year. She was still angry for the way I treated her. I understand. Maybe one day she will forgive me. Until then, I will light a candle for her and the benevolent creatures and moments we shared in another time-space. I am fine. Intense, yes, but fine with everything.
Just needed to write this today. Even if nobody reads it...
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