Day 8

So I got behind on my days and I will catch up but we had a snow storm here and I lost my electric for 4 days. This is another post all together. We stayed at the house until Sunday night when we went to my mother in laws for just the night and I found this taped on her fridge. I think it lends its self perfectly to our letter and journal writing thoughts
"Dear Ann Landers: I had a marvelous mother who loved, sacrificed for and helped me in every way she could. All my years of growing up, through college and eventually marriage, my mother was at my side. When I needed help with my little ones she was right there for me.
 Today we buried that wonderful women. Can you imagine how I felt when I returned from the services and found this poem?
The times is now
"IF you are ever going to love me,
Love me now, while I can know,
The sweet and tender feelings
Which from true affections flow.
Love me now while I am living.
Do not wait until I'm gone
And then have it chiseled in marble,
Sweet words on ice-cold stone.
If you have tender thoughts of me
Please tekll me now.
If you wait until I am sleeping
Never to awaken
There will be death between us
And I wont' hear you then.
So if you love me, even a little bit,
Let  me know it while I am living
So I can know and treasure it."
"Now she is gone and I am sick with guilt because I never told her what she meant to me. Worse yet, I didn't treat her as she deserved to be treated.
I found time for everyone and everything, but I never made time to visit Mom to give her pleasure. The time we spent together was when I needed her. Never once was she too busy to come help out.
When I called Mom on the phone, our conversations were brief and hurried. I feel ashamed when I think of the times I cut her short with, "Sorry, I have to run." I remember, too, the times I could have included her and didn't.
 Our children loved "Grandma" from the time they were babies. They often turned to her rather than to me for counsel and comfort. She understood them. I realize now I was too critical, too short-tempered, too stinkgy with praise. My goals for them were unrealistic. Grandma gave them unconditional love.
  The world is filled with daughters like me or sons. I hope many of them will see this column ( or post) and profit from it. For me it is too late. and I am sick with regrets. I'm signing my letter Guilty and heartbroken.
 Dear Guilty and Heartbroken:
here is your letter- On Mother's day. I was deeply moved by it and am sure others will be, too Bless you for sharing.
Well, that's a lot to think about when You decide to write to someone today. or call.