I sat holding her hand. It was the only thing that remained the same on her.
I sang songs to her. Spoke in Dutch to her. Told her i loved her.
Romantic dramas show people weeping at the bedside of dying family members--pleading for forgiveness or offering forgiveness of their own for past circumstances.
You know what? I stared into the face of the woman who raised me. Who filled my 46 years with angst. And the words of forgiveness were just so shallow. So meaningless. So trivial.
It was no longer my mother laying there. It was a person who shared a history with me and was now at the final moments of her life.
My brain said, "I forgive you"
My heart moved my mouth and spilled out every word of comfort it could offer...and when it ran out of words--i found myself singing to her. Songs she long held dear.
Her face turned toward me and her breathing softened.
In that moment i realized the shallowness of grudges. The trivialness of angst.
In the end you only wish peace.
6 years ago