Mother's Day

Today I didn't see you.

It was the last of the temple classes.  My boy wants to go where the people his age have gone to.  Maybe he will decide he wants to proselyte after all.  He received his official release, and a recommend.

The flowers for Mother's day were red zinnias. I didn't take one.  I never do.  Motherhood has been too painful to feel honored.  There is no place for me to plant it anyway.

Sometimes I want to go home, somewhere I can have a yard where I can make weeds go away, or at least arrange them in an appealing manner, not all cluttery like they are here.  She was always cluttery in everything she did.  I am too cluttery also.

I don't want to leave a mess behind for someone else to clean up when I die.

I like to avoid Mother's Day whenever I can, and you managed to do so today.

I'm still glad to see you, and I will still always pray for you.  It is best to do that.    Someday I'll die and I will only have the relationship I have now with you that doesn't really exist at all.
And that is okay.  You would only be disrespectful anyway if I became too close to you. My sisters and brothers are, my children are, and my ex husband most definitely is.  I don't want any more of that.

So I think that distance is the only way for me to have any kind of respectful relationship with someone.