Beauty from Pain

Yesterday was my mom’s birthday. She would have been 63. For those of you who don't know, she passed away in 2002 from ovarian cancer.

Whenever I talk about her - I always talk about what a close relationship we had. And we did - we really did... But it wasn't always like that.

We struggled for a long time.

We spent a lot of years not understanding each other.
...not appreciating each other.
...fighting with each other.
...hurting each other.

I had many wonderful years with her too...

Years that were spent really getting to know each other.
...learning how to understand each other.
...laughing (and sometimes crying) together.
...loving and forgiving each other.

In the years since her death, I have spent many sleepless nights regretting our earlier years together.

Asking myself why I couldn't see that our time together was a gift.

Why did I choose to be so selfish with my choices? If I had chosen differently, those years would now provide me with good memories instead of bad ones.

But I've learned something...

I’ve learned that I wouldn't trade those earlier years for anything.

I’ve learned that I’m thankful for all of the years we spent together. The good and the bad.

Those years, and the experiences they provided, made me the person I am today.

They serve as a constant reminder that the time we have is fleeting and once it's gone we can't get it back; so we shouldn't waste any of it.

They remind me that the love I have for my family isn't always obvious to them. It has to be demonstrated - constantly - especially where my kids are concerned.

They remind me that whenever I choose to do one thing - I'm choosing not to do something else.

They remind me of what’s important – and what’s not.

They’ve shown me that I have foolishly labeled a lot of things as “important” while neglecting what’s truly important.

They've brought me to a place where I'm actually thankful for the pain we experienced because I can finally see the beauty that came from it.