The other day I was running through the forest and that Ray LaMontagne song 'Be Here Now' came on my Mp3. I started thinking about my mom. The burn in my legs and stitch in my side was replaced with an indescribable sadness.
I miss my mom.
When you're a child, you tend not to think of your parents as people. They're just your mom and dad, you don't consider their happiness. As you grow, you learn their likes and dislikes, you get to know them as individuals. Sometimes you realize, they aren't happy and you might have been part of that reason.
As I snaked through the trails, I got more and more morose. What was it my mother wanted when she was my age? What sort of hopes and dreams did she put on hold? Were kids worth giving them up? Knowing my siblings, I would have to say 'no'. Even now she's still putting up with bullshit. And eventually you reach an age, or mindset (not sure which it is), that you're too old to do what you want. Personally, I don't think that's the case, but I know my mom does. And that makes me sad.
I was the third child for both sets of parents. (I'd get into it but it's a whole yours, mine and ours thing that gets confusing right around, the half and full siblings debacle). By the time I wandered onto the scene she'd already given up what she wanted. Sometime I wonder if there's any hope left.
As time passes, I want one thing, for her to figure it out. I think she can be happy. I want her to be happy. I just don't know if she knows what will make her happy.
We try not to make the same mistakes as our parents. But sometimes you make them without knowing you are. What happens when you wake up and realize you aren't happy? That your dreams have been shoved off the cliff and dashed on the jagged rocks below?