Saturday, March 7, 2009

I miss my mom

I can't help but to miss my mom. No, my mom hasn't passed away but we have been estranged for well over a year. Which means that she never even knew that she had and lost a grandson. I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to pick up the phone and tell her, but I haven't. I remember wanting so desperately to call her the morning I delivered Robert. I was all alone in my recovery room, so exhausted in so many ways, and it took everything in me not to pick up my mobile and give her a call. It was one of those pivotal moments in my life when I really needed my mom, but I knew in my heart that she could not be there like I needed her to be. I was also very angry at her for that. But I realized, once again, that I can't expect something from her that she's unable to give me, therefore being angry is futile. 


I've had several people ask me how I feel about the fact that I gave my mom one of my kidney's and we no longer talk. My response: God does not make mistakes. I may not have the relationship I wish I had with my mom, but I know that she's alive and healthy. God blessed me with the exact family I was supposed to have. He gave me the exact dad, mom, sister and brother that he intended for my life. Who am I to argue with that? I also don't believe that it's beyond hope for me and my mom. It's so easy for me to say, "It's been like this with my mom for so long that it will never change", but then I am saying that I don't trust God. But I believe that God can change a person's heart. So I pray everyday that God's will be done in my broken relationship with my mom.



The one thing that I find so awesome is that regardless of the fact that I no longer have a mom or a dad in my life, it does not mean that I'm all alone. God tells us that he's a father to the fatherless (and the motherless). I find comfort in knowing that I have an amazing, loving heavenly father that loves me unconditionally. I also have a wonderful example of what it means to be a good mom to my own children.




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