Visit to my mom

In the quiet moments of reflection, I find myself grappling with the echoes of today’s encounter with my mother. Her sorrow, a heavy burden she carries with such grace, weighs upon my heart. As she poured out her worries and fears, I listened intently, longing to offer comfort and solace. Yet, as the words flowed from my lips, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t truly me speaking. It was as if an unfamiliar voice, gentle and caring, emerged from within, offering words of wisdom and reassurance that seemed beyond my own capabilities.

In that moment, I watched as my mother’s tears transformed into a glimmer of hope, her embrace a testament to the gratitude she held in her heart. And yet, as I left her home, a bitter taste lingered in my mouth. For while I had brought a fleeting moment of joy to her day, I couldn’t help but wonder why that same voice, so sweet and compassionate, never seemed to speak to me in the same way.

It’s a contradiction that I struggle to comprehend – how I can offer comfort and guidance to others, yet feel lost and alone in my own thoughts. That voice, so elusive when it comes to addressing my own struggles, remains silent, leaving me to navigate the depths of my emotions alone.

But amidst the uncertainty and doubt, I find solace in the love of my mother. Her embrace, her words of gratitude, serve as a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is light to be found. And perhaps, in time, that same voice that brings comfort to others will find its way to me, guiding me through the challenges that lie ahead.

Until then, I’ll hold onto the moments shared with my mother, cherishing the love and support she offers unconditionally. And in the silence of my own thoughts, I’ll continue to search for that voice – the voice that speaks not only to others, but to the depths of my own soul.