The Letterbox (Part 2)
I had a realisation…
My friend was visiting, and I was telling her about my Letterbox Trigger (last post.)
Checking my phone frequently to see if my Esther had posted anything had reminded me of how I used to check my letterbox every day hoping for a letter from my Mum and Dad.
A lifetime of looking for, waiting for, letters.
Letters were our way of communication with each other.
The memory brought up an unexpected flood of tears.
This didn’t make sense.
I am very happy for Esther on her amazing adventure, and we communicate with each other regularly.
But…
This isn’t about Esther.
This is about me. And my Mum and Dad.
My mind went to my Mum. She was so faithful in writing to her children every week. I thought about HER – checking her mail, hoping for a letter from her children… My heart broke for her – her sorrow, her grief, her dashed hopes, her loss, her rejection…
As my friend talked with me, I realised that –
This isn’t about my Mum.
This is about me.
This is MY grief. (It is so very painful.)
But I am glad that I am feeling it.
It has been bottled up far too long.
Now. What to do with it?!
That’s a good question! 😊
