Finding Light In The Darkness

Be prepared for this post to be all over the place. My brain is a jumbled mess. Momma has been gone 2 years as of yesterday. I thought I was going to be fine. I mean the first year is the hardest, right? Wrong! The day hit me like a ton of bricks. As if it had just happened. Fresh and raw. Much crying ensued. I am at an interesting point in my life. Things are happening that I need to deal with. I want more than anything to have my Momma's lap to lay my head in. To have her rub my head gently and tell me it will all be OK. That little comfort. To have her here to listen to me rant and rave. To tell me when I am going over the edge and bring me back to reality. To help me make decisions that are the best for me and my family. To have her experience to learn from. Now I have to be the one to comfort me. To reel me back in when I am on the edge. To make my own decisions. And you know what? It is HORRIBLE. I need Daddy to run to for answers to my car questions. To get feedback for life's decisions, too. I can't. He has answers, but they are not for me. They are for the life he is living in his head. His dementia filled brain has answers, some of them are quite humorous, but they are not what I need. What I need is my Momma and Daddy here. On the flip side I have become Momma to other people. I am the one who people come to for advice, comfort, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on. I am the with the inviting lap, the one gently rubbing a suffering head and telling them it will be all right. Everything will be fine. I am using my life experiences to help others work through their trials. My advice is sound, or at least that is what I have been told. I just wonder why I don't give myself advice or listen to what I tell others? As I write this the clouds have moved and the sunlight is coming through my window. Almost as if, in life, the light has ways of shining through. The darkness is still there, but there are areas of light, of bright blue sky, too. They are there to show that it is not all dark. We have to look for the light. It's there. Somewhere. To find the blue sky in the midst of the dark clouds. Momma raised me to be my own person. To be independent. She would tell me I know the path I need to travel. I need to listen to my inner person. My inner voice will tell me what I need to hear. My inner voice, it sounds like Momma. I guess she is here. She is my ray of sun shining through the clouds. So I will cry. I will mourn. And I will look for the light in this darkness. I am listening Momma. I will get through my trail. Just like you would expect me to. I am my Momma's daughter after all.