It felt like a funeral…I wish it were

Today, my mother brought her church sisters and their blind pastor to pray for me and my ‘adversities’.  I couldn’t help but being reminded of the final ceremony I have witnessed so few of, where people are gathered over a body that once lived, praying. My mother watched sheepishly with tears in her eyes…I think nervous, perhaps from the fear that I would retaliate and tell them to go away in my usual stubborn self, but not today…today I was the nervous one, I held my water cup to my mouth drinking as long as I can, crossed my legs and sat indian style on the bed, fighting back my tears, as my mind tried to figure out why tears, what was happening, what would happen. Would I start speaking in tongues and immediately become a changed person, heaven knows I am tired of my pain.  With my hand in bandages, pins in my finger, my back in pain and my heart…yea…that…my heart, I wasn’t even sure where or how far that had run, but I am sure I couldn’t coax it to light…I had lost its trust, the only thing left were tears that I fight so hard to keep behind my lids, I am too strong to cry.

Today it felt like a funeral and I wish it were, as I am seriously tired of this pain, of all my bad decisions and choices, my adversities they call it, my regrets I fear it…but my reality as it is.

 

 

 

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