I remember growing up I would always get mad at my Mother’s protected lifeyle. She would never take any chances. I’m not talking about chances on investments or gambles, I’m talking about chances of visiting a neighbor or driving to a new place. It was not til later in adulthood that I realized how traumatized she had been growing up and how it effected everything she did in later life, I always wanted the best for her. And I always thought that there was more for her somewhere in life.
I would constantly prod here to do new things . I realize now that this was the wrong approach. Someone who is very sheltered needs to be led inches at a time into the light. It’s a shame when I look at her life. As safe and as careful as she was. As fearful as she lived she still died in the end. Maybe it took a little longer. Maybe not. Ma, go out in the rain and feel it on your face.