If I had the mind I have now, there are things I would have done differently then, when you were alive.
During those childrearing years when scarcely a free moment was mine, I would have called you more.
Because now that I am 69, I wish my 5 offspring would do the same. I understand they have toddlers and teenagers and jobs and homes, but it doesn't assuage the abrasion of feeling left behind.
If I could, I would ask you, dear Mother, to forgive me. How sorry I am knowing I may have rendered you lonely for us, my brothers and me.
It's too late now, unless inhabitants of heaven have ears to hear us on earth. I can only pray that Jesus, whose presence you enjoy, can tell you of my sorrowful remorse. That's no likely because He said he'd wipe away all tears and I'm certain it would sadden you to hear my apology.
So I write this letter to absolve my sin. Honor thy father and mother was the command. I did it poorly in the end.
My dear husband comes in just now and I tell him how I feel I mistreated you. He prays for us.
Minutes later, I interrupt this letter because my oldest son, daughter-in-law facetime to chat with them and their two baby girls. Joy.
Then our daughter calls for a catch-up call. We wish our 13-year-old grand-daughter bedecked with the latest lip liner and eyelash tufts, a happy birthday.
So, I'll stop groaning about the phone calls. But I've more to say to you.
I would have asked you how it was to care for Dad and his Alzheimer's. Did he get upset? Did he hover and call you at work saying he hasn't seen you in months, years?
Did he drive you crazy when he would misplace something important, file it wrongly, leave the newly bought garden soil in the parking lot, or talk incessantly of things that never happened, weaving story after story that jump from one decade to another, mixing up daughters with sisters?
Did you find him outside sweeping early in the morning surprised to see you in your nightgown? Did he call you at three a.m. wondering where you were, when you were sleeping by his side? Did he repeatedly ask you to marry him when you'd been wedding for nearly 50 years?
Who did you go to for solace and comfort? I should have called and asked.
I never heard you complain.
Ever.
Thank you.
And I'm sorry.
