I do not hear my Mothers voice so clearly anymore, Too long she is absent from my life. For years that voice had been both friend and enemy, teaching, coaxing preaching, dissapproving, often with directions I didn't want to heed. And distance didn't matter, the voice was always there, in my inner ear. Somehow I found comfort in it, for as long as I could hear the voice...Mother wasn't gone... One night, as I lay in thought after a particularly trying day, and the ramblings of uncertainty gripped my soul, I closed my eyes and listened for the voice... But all I heard was the pounding of my heart,"Be quiet,"I cried "I can not hear the voice!", but it beat even louder, with the cry. Panic rose up inside me and pushed me from my bed. Through the night I struggled with the feeling of loneliness. I felt the guilt of getting on with life but now the pain was back, it was like she was dying over and over ,a little at a time. And now the voice it's gone! Is this a normal part of grieving? The little girl within struggled with the thought wanting only to get back to...the voice. Even if it meant sinking back into the daily pain of grief, at least there I had the voice. The battle within raged on, one side drawing me back to grief and pain and the other side...life...urging me to be among the living, to give up the grief and let my Mother go, on to what the future holds for her. As morning came and duty called, I put on hold the choice. I washed away the giref, and in the very act of washing away the tears, I knew the choice was made. An older face looked back at me. I stared hard at the face in the mirror. "She looks more like my Mother ,then me,"I thought. The ringing of the phone jars me back to reality...and on the other end...life...struggling with it's growing pains, questioning, needing, and as I coax and encourage, I hear a strange thing, in my inner ear...a voice..my own!! But like the face in the mirror it echoes traces of my Mother and traces of myself, a blending of the two. My Mother's voice was a blending also, of generations past, blended with her own. And now... this voice...not my Mother's, but mine! And so I choose to get on with life, knowing that the cycle will continue...and someday with my passing... someone will grieve the lose of the voice...until they hear thier own. BY: Bobby Smith (July 27th1997) (copyright:1997,2nd collection) |
The Voice |
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Coming soon: Mother's Pearls >>> |
Midi by: JimmyJKeys >>>>> |
